OF  THE 


U  N  I  VERS  ITY 
or  ILLINOIS 

PRESENTED  BY 

Miss  Ethel  Ricker 

from  the 
Litirary  of  her  Father 
Nathan  Clifford  Ricker 
Head  of  the  Department  of 
Architecture,  1873-1911 


V.  2 


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UNIVERSITY  OF   ILLINOIS   LIBRARY  AT  URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 


MAR  30 

APlo 


SEP  3 

FEB  ?9 


1978 

11996 


m 


MAY  2  0  m 


1972 


^01 


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the  Internet  Archive 

in  2015 

https://archive.org/details/novelsofjaneaust02aust 


THE  NOVELS  AND  WRITINGS 

OF 

JANE  AUSTEN 


Ah 


ATHENAEUM  EDITION 


THE 
NOVELS  OF 

VOLUME  II 

PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE 


ILLUSTRATED 


THE  ATHENAEUM  CLUB 
New  York 


Copyright,  1892, 
By  Roberts  Brothers. 


Hntbcrsttg  i^rcss: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

T  is  a  truth  universally  acknowledged, 
that  a  single  man  in  possession  of  a 
good  fortune  must  be  in  want  of  a 
wife. 

However  little  known  the  feelings  or  views  of 
such  a  man  may  be  on  his  first  entering  a  neigh- 
borhood, this  truth  is  so  well  fixed  in  the  minds  of 
the  surrounding  families  that  he  is  considered  as 
the  rightful  property  of  some  one  or  other  of  their 
daughters. 

^'My  dear  Mr.  Bennet,''  said  his  lady  to  him 
one  day,  *^have  you  heard  that  Netherfield  Park 
is  let  at  last?'' 

Mr.  Bennet  replied  that  he  had  not. 

*'But  it  is,''  returned  she;  ^'for  Mrs.  Long  has 
just  been  here,  and  she  told  me  all  about  it." 

Mr.  Bennet  made  no  answer. 


6 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Do  not  you  want  to  know  who  has  taken  it?  " 
cried  his  wife,  impatiently. 

You  want  to  tell  me,  and  I  have  no  ohjection 
to  hearing  it.'' 

This  was  invitation  enough. 
^^Why,  my  dear,  you  must  know,  Mrs.  Long 
says  that  Netherfield  is  taken  by  a  young  man  of 
large  fortune  from  the  north  of  England;  that  he 
came  down  on  Monday  in  a  chaise  and  four  to  see 
the  place,  and  was  so  much  delighted  with  it  that 
he  agreed  with  Mr.  Morris  immediately ;  that  he 
is  to  take  possession  before  Michaelmas,  and  some 
of  his  servants  are  to  be  in  the  house  by  the  end  of 
next  week.'' 

What  is  his  name?  " 
^^Bingley." 

Is  he  married  or  single?  " 

Oh,  single,  my  dear,  to  be  sure!  A  single 
man  of  large  fortune ;  four  or  five  thousand  a  year. 
What  a  fine  thing  for  our  girls !  " 

How  so?  how  can  it  affect  them?  '* 
^^My  dear  Mr.  Bennet,"  replied  his  wife,  ^^how 
can  jon  be  so  tiresome?    You  must  know  that  I 
am  thinking  of  his  marrying  one  of  them." 

Is  that  his  design  in  settling  here?  " 

Design?  nonsense,  how  can  you  talk  so!  But 
it  is  very  likely  that  he  may  fall  in  love  with  one 
of  them,  and  therefore  you  must  visit  him  as  soon 
as  he  comes." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


7 


I  see  no  occasion  for  that.  You  and  the  girls 
may  go,  or  you  may  send  them  by  themselves, 
which  perhaps  will  be  still  better;  for  as  you  are 
as  handsome  as  any  of  them,  Mr.  Bingley  might 
like  you  the  best  of  the  party." 

^^My  dear,  you  flatter  me.  I  certainly  have 
had  my  share  of  beauty,  but  I  do  not  pretend  to  be 
anything  extraordinary  now.  When  a  woman  has 
five  grown-up  daughters,  she  ought  to  give  over 
thinking  of  her  own  beauty." 

*^In  such  cases  a  woman  has  not  often  much 
beauty  to  thiuk  of." 

^'But,  my  dear,  you  must  indeed  go  and  see  Mr. 
Bingley  when  he  comes  into  the  neighborhood." 

^'  It  is  more  than  I  engage  for,  I  assure  you." 

'^But  consider  your  daughters.  Only  think 
what  an  establishment  it  would  be  for  one  of  them ! 
Sir  William  and  Lady  Lucas  are  determined  to  go, 
merely  on  that  account;  for  in  general,  you  know, 
they  visit  no  new-comers.  Indeed  you  must  go; 
for  it  will  be  impossible  for  us  to  visit  him,  if  you 
do  not." 

*^You  are  over-scrupulous,  surely.  I  dare  say 
Mr.  Bingley  will  be  very  glad  to  see  you ;  and  I 
will  send  a  few  lines  by  you  to  assure  him  of  my 
hearty  consent  to  his  marrying  whichever  he 
chooses  of  the  girls;  though  I  must  throw  in  a 
good  word  for  my  little  Lizzy." 

I  desire  you  will  do  no  such  thing.    Lizzy  is 


8 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


not  a  bit  better  than  the  others ;  and  I  am  sure  she 
is  not  half  so  handsome  as  Jane,  nor  half  so  good- 
humored  as  Lydia.  But  you  are  always  giving 
her  the  preference. 

^^They  have  none  of  them  much  to  recommend 
them,"  replied  he:  ^^they  are  all  silly  and  igno- 
rant, like  other  girls;  but  Lizzy  has  something 
more  of  quickness  than  her  sisters." 

''Mr.  Bennet,  how  can  you  abuse  your  own 
children  in  such  a  way?  You  take  delight  in 
vexing  me.  You  have  no  compassion  on  my  poor 
nerves." 

''  You  mistake  me,  my  dear.  I  have  a  high  re- 
spect for  your  nerves.  They  are  my  old  friends. 
I  have  heard  you  mention  them  with  consideration 
these  twenty  years  at  least." 

''  Ah,  you  do  not  know  what  I  suffer." 

''But  I  hope  you  wall  get  over  it,  and  live  to 
see  many  young  men  of  four  thousand  a  year  come 
into  the  neighborhood." 

"  It  will  be  no  use  to  us,  if  twenty  such  should 
come,  since  you  will  not  visit  them." 

"Depend  upon  it,  my  dear,  that  when  there  are 
twenty,  I  will  visit  them  all." 

Mr.  Bennet  was  so  odd  a  mixture  of  quick  parts, 
sarcastic  humor,  reserve,  and  caprice,  that  the 
experience  of  three-and-twenty  years  had  been 
insufficient  to  make  his  wife  understand  his  char- 
acter.   Her  mind  was  less  difficult  to  develop. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


9 


She  was  a  woman  of  mean  understanding,  little  in- 
formation, and  uncertain  temper.  When  she  was 
discontented,  she  fancied  herself  nervous.  The 
business  of  her  life  was  to  get  her  daughters  mar- 
ried j  its  solace  was  visiting  and  news. 


CHAPTER  n. 


Mr.  Bennet  was  among  the  earliest  of  those  who 
waited  on  Mr.  Bingley.  He  had  always  intended 
to  visit  him,  though  to  the  last  always  assuring 
his  wife  that  he  should  not  go ;  and  till  the  even- 
ing after  the  visit  was  paid  she  had  no  knowledge 
of  it.  It  was  then  disclosed  in  the  following 
manner.  Ohserving  his  second  daughter  employed 
in  trimming  a  hat,  he  suddenly  addressed  her 
with,  — 

'^I  hope  Mr.  Bingley  will  like  it,  Lizzy." 
We  are  not  in  a  way  to  know  what  Mr.  Bing- 
ley likes,''  said  her  mother,  resentfully,  since 
we  are  not  to  visit." 

^^But  you  forget,  mamma,"  said  Elizaheth, 
'Hhat  we  shall  meet  him  at  the  assemhlies,  and 
that  Mrs.  Long  has  promised  to  introduce  him." 

do  not  believe  Mrs.  Long  will  do  any  such 
thing.  She  has  two  nieces  of  her  own.  She  is  a 
selfish  hypocritical  woman,  and  I  have  no  opinion 
of  her." 

*'No  more  have  I,"  said  Mr.  Bennet;  ^^and  I 
am  glad  to  find  that  you  do  not  depend  on  hei 
serving  you." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


11 


Mrs.  Bennet  deigned  not  to  make  any  reply; 
but  unable  to  contain  herself,  began  scolding  one 
of  her  daughters. 

Don't  keep  coughing  so,  Kitty,  for  heaven's 
sake!  Have  a  little  compassion  on  my  nerves. 
You  tear  them  to  pieces.'' 

Kitty  has  no  discretion  in  her  coughs,"  said 
her  father;     she  times  them  ill." 

*^Ido  not  cough  for  my  own  amusement,"  re- 
plied Kitty,  fretfully.  When  is  your  next  ball 
to  be,  Lizzy?  " 

To-morrow  fortnight." 

'^Ay,  so  it  is,"  cried  her  mother,  ''and  Mrs. 
Long  does  not  come  back  till  the  day  before ;  so  it 
will  be  impossible  for  her  to  introduce  him,  for 
she  will  not  know  him  herself." 

''Then,  my  dear,  you  may  have  the  advantage  of 
your  friend,  and  introduce  Mr.  Bingley  to  her." 

"Impossible,  Mr.  Bennet,  impossible,  when  I 
am  not  acquainted  with  him  myself;  how  can  you 
be  so  teasing?  " 

"I  honor  your  circumspection.  A  fortnight's 
acquaintance  is  certainly  very  little.  One  cannot 
know  what  a  man  really  is  by  the  end  of  a  fort- 
night. But  if  we  do  not  venture,  somebody  else 
will;  and  after  all,  Mrs.  Long  and  her  nieces  must 
stand  their  chance;  and  therefore,  as  she  will 
think  it  an  act  of  kindness,  if  you  decline  the 
office,  I  will  take  it  on  myself." 


12 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


The  girls  stared  at  their  father.  Mrs.  Bennet 
said  only,     Nonsense,  nonsense!  " 

^'What  can  be  the  meaning  of  that  emphatic 
exclamation?''  cried  he.  ^'Do  you  consider  the 
forms  of  introduction,  and  the  stress  that  is  laid 
on  them,  as  nonsense?  I  cannot  quite  agree  with 
you  there.  What  say  you,  Mary?  —  for  you  are  a 
young  lady  of  deep  reflection,  I  know,  and  read 
great  books,  and  make  extracts.'' 

Mary  wished  to  say  something  very  sensible,  but 
knew  not  how. 

While  Mary  is  adjusting  her  ideas,"  he  con- 
tinued,    let  us  return  to  Mr.  Bingley." 

"I  am  sick  of  Mr.  Bingley,"  cried  his  wife, 
am  sorry  to  hear  that;  but  why  did  not  you 
tell  me  so  before?  If  I  had  known  as  much  this 
morning,  I  certainly  would  not  have  called  on 
him.  It  is  very  unlucky;  but  as  I  have  actually 
paid  the  visit,  we  cannot  escape  the  acquaintance 
now." 

The  astonishment  of  the  ladies  was  just  what  he 
wished,  — that  of  Mrs.  Bennet  perhaps  surpassing 
the  rest ;  though  when  the  first  tumult  of  joy  was 
over,  she  began  to  declare  that  it  was  what  she 
had  expected  all  the  while. 

'^How  good  it  was  in  you,  my  dear  Mr.  Bennet! 
But  I  knew  I  should  persuade  you  at  last.  I  was 
sure  you  loved  your  girls  too  well  to  neglect  such 
an  acquaintance.    Well,  how  pleased  I  am!  and  it 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICEo  13 


is  sucli  a  good  joke,  too,  that  you  should  have  gone 
this  morning,  and  never  said  a  word  about  it  till 
now/' 

**Now,  Kitty,  you  may  cough  as  much  as  you 
choose,''  said  Mr.  Bennet;  and  as  he  spoke,  he 
left  the  room,  fatigued  with  the  raptures  of  his 
wife. 

What  an  excellent  father  you  have,  girls!" 
said  she,  when  the  door  was  shut.  '^I  do  not 
•know  how  you  will  ever  make  him  amends  for  his 
kindness;  or  me,  either,  for  that  matter.  At  our 
time  of  life  it  is  not  so  pleasant,  I  can  tell  you, 
to  be  making  new  acquaintance  every  day;  but  for 
your  sakes  we  would  do  anything.  Lydia,  my 
love,  though  you  are  the  youngest,  I  dare  say  Mr. 
Bingley  will  dance  with  you  at  the  next  ball." 

*'0h,"  said  Lydia,  stoutly,  ^^I  am  not  afraid j 
for  though  I  am  the  youngest,  I 'm  the  tallest." 

The  rest  of  the  evening  was  spent  in  conjectur- 
ing how  soon  he  would  return  Mr.  Bennet's  visit, 
and  determining  when  they  should  ask  him  to 
dinner. 


CHAPTER  m.  '> 


Not  all  that  Mrs.  Bennet,  however,  with  the 
assistance  of  her  five  daughters,  could  ask  on  the 
suhject,  was  sufficient  to  draw  from  her  husband 
any  satisfactory  description  of  Mr.  Bingley. 
They  attacked  him  in  various  ways,  —  with  bare- 
faced questions,  ingenious  suppositions,  and  dis- 
tant surmises ;  but  he  eluded  the  skill  of  them  all, 
and  they  were  at  last  obliged  to  accept  the  second- 
hand intelligence  of  their  neighbor,  Lady  Lucas. 
Her  report  was  highly  favorable.  Sir  William 
had  been  delighted  with  him.  He  was  quite 
young,  wonderfully  handsome,  extremely  agree- 
able, and,  to  crown  the  whole,  he  meant  to  be  at 
the  next  assembly  with  a  large  party.  Nothing 
could  be  more  delightful!  To  be  fond  of  dancing 
was  a  certain  step  towards  falling  in  love;  and 
very  lively  hopes  of  Mr.  Bingley's  heart  were 
entertained. 

*^If  I  can  but  see  one  of  my  daughters  happily 
settled  at  Netherfield,''  said  Mrs.  Bennet  to  her 
husband,  '^and  all  the  others  equally  well  mar- 
ried, I  shall  have  nothing  to  wish  for.'' 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


15 


In  a  few  days  Mr.  Bingley  returned  Mr.  Ben- 
net's  visit,  and  sat  about  ten  minutes  with  him  in 
his  library.  He  had  entertained  hopes  of  being 
admitted  to  a  sight  of  the  young  ladies,  of  whose 
beauty  he  had  heard  much;  but  he  saw  only  the 
father.  The  ladies  were  somewhat  more  fortunate, 
for  they  had  the  advantage  of  ascertaining,  from 
an  upper  window,  that  he  wore  a  blue  coat  and 
rode  a  black  horse. 

An  invitation  to  dinner  was  soon  afterwards 
despatched;  and  already  had  Mrs.  Bennet  planned 
the  courses  that  were  to  do  credit  to  her  house- 
keeping, when  an  answer  arrived  which  deferred  it 
all.  Mr.  Bingley  was  obliged  to  be  in  town  the 
following  day,  and  consequently  unable  to  accept 
the  honor  of  their  invitation,  etc.  Mrs.  Bennet 
was  quite  disconcerted.  She  could  not  imagine 
what  business  he  could  have  in  town  so  soon  after 
his  arrival  in  Hertfordshire;  and  she  began  to 
fear  that  he  might  always  be  flying  about  from 
one  place  to  another,  and  never  settled  at  Nether- 
field  as  he  ought  to  be.  Lady  Lucas  quieted  her 
fears  a  little  by  starting  the  idea  of  his  being  gone 
to  London  only  to  get  a  large  party  for  the  ball; 
and  a  report  soon  followed  that  Mr.  Bingley  was 
to  bring  twelve  ladies  and  seven  gentlemen  with 
him  to  the  assembly.  The  girls  grieved  over  such 
a  number  of  ladies;  but  were  comforted  the  day 
before  the  ball  by  hearing  that,  instead  of  twelve. 


16 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


he  had  brought  only  six  with  him  from  London, 
his  five  sisters  and  a  cousin.  And  when  the  party 
entered  the  assembly-room,  it  consisted  of  only 
five  all  together,  —  Mr.  Bingley,  his  two  sisters,  the 
husband  of  the  eldest,  and  another  young  man. 

Mr.  Bingley  was  good-looking  and  gentleman- 
like; he  had  a  pleasant  countenance,  and  easy, 
unaffected  manners.  His  sisters  were  fine  women, 
with  an  air  of  decided  fashion.  His  brother-in- 
law,  Mr.  Hurst,  merely  looked  the  gentleman;  but 
his  friend  Mr.  Darcy  soon  drew  the  attention  of 
the  room  by  his  fine,  tall  person,  handsome  feat- 
ures, noble  mien,  and  the  report,  which  was  in 
general  circulation  within  five  minutes  after  his 
entrance,  of  his  having  ten  thousand  a  year.  The 
gentlemen  pronounced  him  to  be  a  fine  figure  of  a 
man,  the  ladies  declared  he  was  much  handsomer 
than  Mr.  Bingley,  and  he  was  looked  at  with  great 
admiration  for  about  half  the  evening,  till  his 
manners  gave  a  disgust  which  turned  the  tide  of 
his  popularity;  for  he  was  discovered  to  be  proud, 
to  be  above  his  company  and  above  being  pleased; 
and  not  all  his  large  estate  in  Derbyshire  could 
then  save  him  from  having  a  most  forbidding,  dis- 
agreeable countenance,  and  being  unworthy  to  be 
compared  with  his  friend. 

Mr.  Bingley  had  soon  made  himself  acquainted 
with  all  the  principal  people  in  the  room:  he  was 
lively  and  unreserved,  danced  every  dance,  was 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  17 


angry  that  the  ball  closed  so  early,  and  talked  of 
giving  one  himself  at  Netherfield.  Such  amiable 
qualities  must  speak  for  themselves.  What  a  con- 
trast between  him  and  his  friend!  Mr.  Darcy 
danced  only  once  with  Mrs.  Hurst  and  once  with 
Miss  Bingley,  declined  being  introduced  to  any 
other  lady,  and  spent  the  rest  of  the  evening  in 
walking  about  the  room,  speaking  occasionally  to 
one  of  his  own  party.  His  character  was  decided. 
He  was  the  proudest,  most  disagreeable  man  in  the 
world,  and  everybody  hoped  that  he  would  never 
come  there  again.  Amongst  the  most  violent 
against  him  was  Mrs.  Bennet,  whose  dislike  of  his 
general  behavior  was  sharpened  into  particular 
resentment  by  his  having  slighted  one  of  her 
daughters. 

Elizabeth  Bennet  had  been  obliged,  by  the 
scarcity  of  gentlemen,  to  sit  down  for  two  dances ; 
and  during  part  of  that  time  Mr.  Darcy  had  been 
standing  near  enough  for  her  to  overhear  a  conver- 
sation between  him  and  Mr.  Bingley,  who  came 
from  the  dance  for  a  few  minutes  to  press  his  friend 
to  join  it. 

'^Come,  Darcy,''  said  he,  ^'1  must  have  you 
dance.  I  hate  to  see  you  standing  about  by  your- 
self in  this  stupid  manner.  You  had  much  better 
dance." 

I  certainly  shall  not.  You  know  how  I  detest 
it,  unless  I  am  particularly  acquainted  with  my 

VOL.  I.  —  2 


18  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


partner.  At  such  an  assembly  as  this  it  would 
be  insupportable.  Your  sisters  are  engaged,  and 
there  is  not  another  woman  in  the  room  whom 
it  would  not  be  a  punishment  to  me  to  stand  up 
with/' 

^'I  would  not  be  so  fastidious  as  you  are/'  cried 
Bingley,  *^for  a  kingdom!  Upon  my  honor,  I 
never  met  with  so  many  pleasant  girls  in  my  life 
as  I  have  this  evening;  and  there  are  several  of 
them,  you  see,  uncommonly  pretty.'' 

You  are  dancing  with  the  only  handsome  girl 
in  the  room,"  said  Mr.  Darcy,  looking  at  the 
eldest  Miss  Bennet. 

Oh,  she  is  the  most  beautiful  creature  I  ever 
beheld!  But  there  is  one  of  her  sisters  sitting 
down  just  behind  you,  who  is  very  pretty,  and  I 
dare  say  very  agreeable.  Do  let  me  ask  my  part- 
ner to  introduce  you." 

Which  do  you  mean?"  and  turning  round, 
he  looked  for  a  moment  at  Elizabeth,  till,  catching 
her  eye,  he  withdrew  his  own,  and  coldly  said: 
*'She  is  tolerable,  but  not  handsome  enough  to 
tempt  me;  and  I  am  in  no  humor  at  present  to 
give  consequence  to  young  ladies  who  are  slighted 
by  other  men.  You  had  better  return  to  your 
partner  and  enjoy  her  smiles,  for  you  are  wasting 
your  time  with  me." 

Mr.  Bingley  followed  his  advice.  Mr.  Darcy 
walked  off ;  and  Elizabeth  remained  with  no  very 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  19 


cordial  feelings  towards  him.  She  told  the  story, 
however,  with  great  spirit  among  her  friends ;  for 
she  had  a  livel}^,  playful  disposition,  which  de- 
lighted in  anything  ridiculous. 

The  evening  altogether  passed  off  pleasantly  to 
the  whole  family.  Mrs.  Bennet  had  seen  her 
eldest  daughter  much  admired  by  the  Netherfield 
party.  Mr.  Bingley  had  danced  with  her  twice, 
and  she  had  been  distinguished  by  his  sisters. 
Jane  was  as  much  gratified  by  this  as  her  mother 
could  be,  though  in  a  quieter  way.  Elizabeth  felt 
Jane's  pleasure.  Mary  had  heard  herself  men- 
tioned to  Miss  Bingley  as  the  most  accomplished 
girl  in  the  neighborhood;  and  Catherine  and 
Lydia  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  be  never 
without  partners,  which  was  all  that  they  had  yet 
learned  to  care  for  at  a  ball.  They  returned, 
therefore,  in  good  spirits  to  Longbourn,  the  village 
where  they  lived,  and  of  which  they  were  the 
principal  inhabitants.  They  found  Mr.  Bennet 
still  up.  With  a  book,  he  was  regardless  of  time; 
and  on  the  present  occasion  he  had  a  good  deal  of 
curiosity  as  to  the  event  of  an  evening  which  had 
raised  such  splendid  expectations.  He  had  rather 
hoped  that  all  his  wife's  views  on  the  stranger 
would  be  disappointed ;  but  he  soon  found  that  he 
had  a  very  different  story  to  hear. 

**0h,  my  dear  Mr.  Bennet,''  as  she  entered  the 
room,  ^'  we  have  had  a  most  delightful  evening,  a 


20 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


most  excellent  ball.  I  wish  you  had  been  there. 
Jane  was  so  admired,  nothing  could  be  like  it. 
Everybody  said  how  well  she  looked;  and  Mr. 
Bingley  thought  her  quite  beautiful,  and  danced 
with  her  twice.  Only  think  of  that,  my  dear :  he 
actually  danced  with  her  twice;  and  she  was  the 
only  creature  in  the  room  that  he  asked  a  second 
time.  First  of  all,  he  asked  Miss  Lucas.  I  was 
so  vexed  to  see  him  stand  up  with  her;  but,  how- 
ever, he  did  not  admire  her  at  all;  indeed,  nobody 
can,  you  know;  and  he  seemed  quite  struck  with 
Jane  as  she  was  going  down  the  dance.  So  he 
inquired  who  she  was,  and  got  introduced,  and 
asked  her  for  the  two  next.  Then  the  two  third 
he  danced  with  Miss  King,  and  the  two  fourth 
with  Maria  Lucas,  and  the  two  fifth  with  Jane 
again,  and  the  two  sixth  with  Lizzy,  and  the 
Boulanger  — 

^^If  he  had  had  any  compassion  for  me,''  cried 
her  husband,  impatiently,  *^he  would  not  have 
danced  half  so  much!  For  God's  sake,  say  no 
more  of  his  partners.  Oh  that  he  had  sprained 
his  ankle  in  the  first  dance!  " 

"Oh,  my  dear,"  continued  Mrs.  Bennet,  "I 
am  quite  delighted  with  him.  He  is  so  excessively 
handsome!  and  his  sisters  are  charming  women. 
I  never  in  my  life  saw  anything  more  elegant  than 
their  dresses.  I  dare  say  the  lace  upon  Mrs. 
Hurst's  gown  —  " 


PEroE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


21 


Here  she  was  interrupted  again.  Mr.  Bennet 
protested  against  any  description  of  finery.  She 
was  therefore  obliged  to  seek  another  branch  of 
the  subject,  and  related,  with  much  bitterness  of 
spirit  and  some  exaggeration,  the  shocking  rude- 
ness of  Mr.  Darcy. 

*'But  I  can  assure  you,''  she  added,  ^Hhat 
Lizzy  does  not  lose  much  by  not  suiting  his  fancy; 
for  he  is  a  most  disagreeable,  horrid  man,  not  at 
all  worth  pleasing.  So  high  and  so  conceited 
that  there  was  no  enduring  him !  He  walked  here, 
and  he  walked  there,  fancying  himself  so  very 
great!  Not  handsome  enough  to  dance  with!  I 
wish  you  had  been  there,  my  dear,  to  have  given 
him  one  of  your  set-downs.  I  quite  detest  the 
man." 


CHAPTER  IV. 


When  Jane  and  Elizabeth  were  alone,  the  for- 
mer, who  had  been  cautious  in  her  praise  of  Mr. 
Bingley  before,  expressed  to  her  sister  how  very 
much  she  admired  him. 

^^He  is  just  what  a  young  man  ought  to  be,'' 
said  she,  ^'sensible,  good-humored,  lively;  and  I 
never  saw  such  happy  manners,  —  so  much  ease, 
with  such  perfect  good-breeding!  " 

*^He  is  also   handsome,"  replied  Elizabeth, 
which  a  young  man   ought   likewise   to  be 
if  he  possibly  can.     His   character   is  thereby 
complete." 

I  was  very  much  flattered  by  his  asking  me 
to  dance  a  second  time.  I  did  not  expect  such  a 
compliment." 

Did  not  you?  I  did  for  you.  But  that  is  one 
great  difference  between  us.  Compliments  always 
take  you  by  surprise,  and  me  never.  What  could 
be  more  natural  than  his  asking  you  again?  He 
could  not  help  seeing  that  you  were  about  five 
times  as  pretty  as  every  other  woman  in  the  room. 
Ko  thanks  to  his  gallantry  for  that.  Well,  lie 
certainly  is  very  agreeable,  and  I  give  you  leave 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  23 


to  like  him.  You  have  liked  many  a  stupider 
person.'' 

Dear  Lizzy!  '' 

"Oh,  you  are  a  great  deal  too  apt,  you  know,  to 
like  people  in  general.  You  never  see  a  fault  in 
anybody.  All  the  world  are  good  and  agreeable 
in  your  eyes.  I  never  heard  you  speak  ill  of  a 
human  being  in  my  life.'' 

"  I  would  wish  not  to  be  hasty  in  censuring  any 
one;  but  I  always  speak  what  I  think." 

"I  know  you  do;  and  it  is  that  which  makes 
the  wonder.  With  your  good  sense,  to  be  so 
honestly  blind  to  the  follies  and  nonsense  of 
others !  Affectation  of  candor  is  common  enough ; 
one  meets  with  it  everywhere.  But  to  be  candid 
without  ostentation  or  design  —  to  take  the  good 
of  everybody's  character  and  make  it  still  better, 
and  say  nothing  of  the  bad  —  belongs  to  you 
alone.  And  so  you  like  this  man's  sisters,  too, 
do  you?    Their  manners  are  not  equal  to  his." 

"Certainly  not,  at  first;  but  they  are  very 
pleasing  women  when  you  converse  with  them. 
Miss  Bingley  is  to  live  with  her  brother,  and 
keep  his  house;  and  I  am  much  mistaken  if 
we  shall  not  find  a  very  charming  neighbor  in 
her." 

Elizabeth  listened  in  silence,  but  was  not  con- 
vinced: their  behavior  at  the  assembly  had  not 
been  calculated  to  please  in  general;  and  with 


24 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


more  quickness  of  observation  and  less  pliancy  of 
temper  tlian  her  sister,  and  with  a  judgment,  too, 
unassailed  by  any  attention  to  herself,  she  was 
very  little  disposed  to  approve  them.  They  were, 
in  fact,  very  fine  ladies;  not  deficient  in  good- 
humor  when  they  were  pleased,  nor  in  the  power 
of  being  agreeable  where  they  chose  it,  but  proud 
and  conceited.  They  were  rather  handsome;  had 
been  educated  in  one  of  the  first  private  seminaries 
in  town;  had  a  fortune  of  twenty  thousand  pounds; 
were  in  the  habit  of  spending  more  than  they 
ought,  and  of  associating  with  people  of  rank;  and 
were  therefore  in  every  respect  entitled  to  think 
well  of  themselves  and  meanly  of  others.  They 
were  of  a  respectable  family  in  the  north  of  Eng- 
land; a  circumstance  more  deeply  impressed  on 
their  memories  than  that  their  brother's  fortune 
and  their  own  had  been  acquired  by  trade. 

Mr.  Bingley  inherited  property  to  the  amount 
of  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  pounds  from  his 
father,  who  had  intended  to  purchase  an  estate, 
but  did  not  live  to  do  it.  Mr.  Bingley  intended  it 
likewise,  and  sometimes  made  choice  of  his  county ; 
but  as  he  was  now  provided  with  a  good  house 
and  the  liberty  of  a  manor,  it  was  doubtful  to 
many  of  those  who  best  knew  the  easiness  of  his 
temper,  whether  he  might  not  spend  the  remainder 
of  his  days  at  Netherfield,  and  leave  the  next 
generation  to  purchase. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  25 


His  sisters  were  very  anxious  for  his  having  an 
estate  of  his  ownj  but  though  he  was  now  es- 
tablished only  as  a  tenant,  Miss  Bingley  was  by 
no  means  unwilling  to  preside  at  his  table;  nor 
was  Mrs.  Hurst,  who  had  married  a  man  of 
more  fashion  than  fortune,  less  disposed  to  con- 
sider his  house  as  her  home  when  it  suited  her. 
Mr.  Bingley  had  not  been  of  age  two  years  when 
he  was  tempted,  by  an  accidental  recommendation, 
to  look  at  Netherfield  house.  He  did  look  at  it 
and  into  it  for  half  an  hour;  was  pleased  with 
the  situation  and  the  principal  rooms,  satisfied 
with  what  the  owner  said  in  its  praise,  and  took 
it  immediately. 

Between  him  and  Darcy  there  was  a  very  steady 
friendship,  in  spite  of  a  great  opposition  of  char- 
acter. Bingley  was  endeared  to  Darcy  by  the 
easiness,  openness,  and  ductility  of  his  temper, 
though  no  disposition  could  offer  a  greater  con- 
trast to  his  own,  and  though  with  his  own  he 
never  appeared  dissatisfied.  On  the  strength  of 
Darcy's  regard  Bingley  had  the  firmest  reliance, 
and  of  his  judgment  the  highest  opinion.  In 
understanding,  Darcy  was  the  superior.  Bingley 
was  by  no  means  deficient;  but  Darcy  was  clever. 
He  was  at  the  same  time  haughty,  reserved,  and 
fastidious;  and  his  manners,  though  well  bred, 
were  not  inviting.  In  that  respect  his  friend  had 
greatly  the  advantage.    Bingley  was  sure  of  being 


26 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


liked  wherever  lie  appeared;  Darcy  was  continually 
giving  offence. 

The  manner  in  which  they  spoke  of  the  Meryton 
assembly  was  sufficiently  characteristic.  Bingley 
had  never  met  with  pleasanter  people  or  prettier 
girls  in  his  life;  everybody  had  been  most  kind 
and  attentive  to  him ;  there  had  been  no  formality, 
no  stiffness;  he  had  soon  felt  acquainted  with  all 
the  room;  and  as  to  Miss  Bennet,  he  could  not 
conceive  an  angel  more  beautiful.  Darcy,  on  the 
contrary,  had  seen  a  collection  of  people  in  whom 
there  was  little  beauty  and  no  fashion,  for  none  of 
whom  he  had  felt  the  smallest  interest,  and  from 
none  received  either  attention  or  pleasure.  Miss 
Bennet  he  acknowledged  to  be  pretty;  but  she 
smiled  too  much. 

Mrs.  Hurst  and  her  sister  allowed  it  to  be  so; 
but  still  they  admired  her  and  liked  her,  and  pro- 
nounced lier  to  be  a  sweet  girl,  and  one  whom 
the}''  should  not  object  to  know  more  of.  Miss 
Bennet  was  therefore  established  as  a  sweet  girl; 
and  their  brother  felt  authorized  by  such  commen- 
dation to  think  of  her  as  he  chose. 


CHAPTER  V. 


"Within  a  short  walk  of  Longbourn  lived  a  family 
with  whom  the  Bennets  were  particularly  inti- 
mate. Sir  William  Lucas  had  been  formerly  in 
trade  in  Meryton,  where  he  had  made  a  tolerable 
fortune,  and  risen  to  the  honor  of  knighthood  by 
an  address  to  the  king  during  his  mayoralty. 
The  distinction  had,  perhaps,  been  felt  too 
strongly.  It  had  given  him  a  disgust  to  his  busi- 
ness and  to  his  residence  in  a  small  market  townj 
and  quitting  them  both,  he  had  removed  with  his 
family  to  a  house  about  a  mile  from  Meryton, 
denominated  from  that  period  Lucas  Lodge ;  where 
he  could  think  with  pleasure  of  his  own  im- 
portance, and  unshackled  by  business,  occupy 
himself  solely  in  being  civil  to  all  the  world. 
For  though  elated  by  his  rank,  it  did  not  render 
him  supercilious;  on  the  contrary,  he  was  all 
attention  to  everybody.  By  nature  inoffensive, 
friendly,  and  obliging,  his  presentation  at  St. 
James's  had  made  him  courteous. 

Lady  Lucas  was  a  very  good  kind  of  woman,  not 
too  clever  to  be  a  valuable  neighbor  to  Mrs.  Ben- 
net.    They  had  several  children.    The  eldest  of 


28 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


them  —  a  sensible,  intelligent  young  woman,  about 
twenty-seven  —  was  Elizabeth's  intimate  friend. 

That  the  Miss  Lucases  and  the  Miss  Bennets 
should  meet  to  talk  over  a  ball  was  absolutely 
necessary;  and  the  morning  after  the  assembly 
brought  the  former  to  Longbourn  to  hear  and  to 
communicate. 

You  began  the  evening  well,  Charlotte, said 
Mrs.  Bennet,  with  civil  self-command,  to  Miss 
Lucas.       You  were  Mr.  Bingley's  first  choice. 
Yes;  but  he  seemed  to  like  his  second  better.'' 

*^0h,  you  mean  Jane,  I  suppose,  because  he 
danced  with  her  twice.  To  be  sure,  that  did  seem 
as  if  he  admired  her,  —  indeed,  I  rather  believe  he 
did,  — I  heard  something  about  it,  — but  I  hardly 
know  what,  — something  about  Mr.  Robinson." 

Perhaps  you  mean  what  I  overheard  between 
him  and  Mr.  E-obinson:  did  not  I  mention  it  to 
you?  Mr.  Robinson's  asking  him  how  he  liked 
our  Meryton  assemblies,  and  whether  he  did  not 
think  there  were  a  great  many  pretty  women  in 
the  room,  and  which  he  thought  the  prettiest; 
and  his  answering  immediately  to  the  last  ques- 
tion, ^  Oh,  the  eldest  Miss  Bennet,  beyond  a  doubt ; 
there  cannot  be  two  opinions  on  that  point.'  " 

^^Upon  my  word!  Well,  that  was  very  de- 
cided, indeed;  that  does  seem  as  if —  But,  how- 
ever, it  may  all  come  to  nothing,  you  know." 

**My  overhearings  were  more  to  the  purpose 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  29 


than  yours,  Eliza/'  said  Charlotte.  ^^Mr.  Darcy 
is  not  so  well  worth  listening  to  as  his  friend,  is 
he?    Poor  Eliza!  to  be  only  just  tolerable." 

^'1  beg  you  will  not  put  it  into  Lizzy's  head  to 
be  vexed  by  his  ill-treatment,  for  he  is  such  a  dis- 
agreeable man  that  it  would  be  quite  a  misfortune 
to  be  liked  by  him.  Mrs.  Long  told  me  last  night 
that  he  sat  close  to  her  for  half  an  hour  without 
once  opening  his  lips." 

''Are  you  quite  sure,  ma'am?  Is  not  there  a 
little  mistake?"  said  Jane.  ''I  certainly  saw 
Mr.  Darcy  speaking  to  her." 

''Ay,  because  she  asked  him  at  last  how  he  liked 
Ketherfield,  and  he  could  not  help  answering  her; 
but  she  said  he  seemed  very  angry  at  being  spoke  to." 

"Miss  Bingley  told  me,"  said  Jane,  "that  he 
never  speaks  much  unless  among  his  intimate  ac- 
quaintance. With  them  he  is  remarkably  agree- 
able." 

"  I  do  not  believe  a  word  of  it,  my  dear.  If  he 
had  been  so  very  agreeable,  he  would  have  talked 
to  Mrs.  Long.  But  I  can  guess  how  it  was ;  every- 
body says  that  he  is  eat  up  with  pride,  and  I  dare 
say  he  had  heard  somehow  that  Mrs.  Long  does 
not  keep  a  carriage,  and  had  to  come  to  the  ball 
in  a  hack  chaise." 

"  I  do  not  mind  his  not  talking  to  Mrs.  Long," 
said  Miss  Lucas;  "but  I  wish  he  had  danced  with 
Eliza." 


30  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


"Another  time,  Lizzy,"  said  her  mother,  1 
would  not  dance  with  him,  if  I  were  you.'' 

"I  believe,  ma'am,  I  may  safely  promise  you 
never  to  dance  with  him." 

"His  pride,"  said  Miss  Lucas,  "does  not  of- 
fend me  so  much  as  pride  often  does,  because 
there  is  an  excuse  for  it.  One  cannot  wonder 
that  so  very  fine  a  young  man,  with  family,  fortune, 
everything  in  his  favor,  should  think  highly  of 
himself.  If  I  may  so  express  it,  he  has  a  right  to 
be  proud." 

"That  is  very  true,"  replied  Elizabeth,  "and 
I  could  easily  forgive  his  pride,  if  he  had  not 
mortified  mine." 

"Pride,"  observed  Mary,  who  piqued  herself 
upon  the  solidity  of  her  reflections,  "is  a  very 
common  failing,  I  believe.  By  all  that  I  have 
ever  read,  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  very  common 
indeed;  that  human  nature  is  particularly  prone 
to  it,  and  that  there  are  very  few  of  us  who  do  not 
cherish  a  feeling  of  self-complacency  on  the  score 
of  some  quality  or  other,  real  or  imaginary.  Van- 
ity and  pride  are  different  things,  though  the 
words  are  often  used  synonymously.  A  person 
may  be  proud  without  being  vain.  Pride  relates 
more  to  our  opinion  of  ourselves  j  vanity  to  what 
we  would  have  others  think  of  us." 

"If  I  were  as  rich  as  Mr.  Darcy,"  cried  a 
young  Lucas,  who   came   with  his  sisters,  "I 


PBIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  31 


should  not  care  how  proud  I  was.  I  would  keep 
a  pack  of  foxhounds,  and  drink  a  bottle  of  wine 
every  day.'' 

'^Then  you  would  drink  a  great  deal  more  than 
you  ought,"  said  Mrs.  Bennet;  ^^and  if  I  were 
to  see  you  at  it,  I  should  take  away  your  bottle 
directly." 

The  boy  protested  that  she  should  not;  she 
continued  to  declare  that  she  would;  and  the  ar- 
g-ument  ended  only  with  the  visit. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


The  ladies  of  Longbourn  soon  waited  on  those  of 
Netherfield.  The  visit  was  returned  in  due  form. 
Miss  Bennetts  pleasing  manners  grew  on  the 
good-will  of  Mrs.  Hurst  and  Miss  Bingley;  and 
though  the  mother  was  found  to  be  intolerable, 
and  the  younger  sisters  not  worth  speaking  to,  a 
wish  of  being  better  acquainted  with  them  was 
expressed  towards  the  two  eldest.  By  Jane  this 
attention  was  received  with  the  greatest  pleasure; 
but  Elizabeth  still  saw  superciliousness  in  their 
treatment  of  everybody,  hardly  excepting  even 
her  sister,  and  could  not  like  them;  though  their 
kindness  to  Jane,  such  as  it  was,  had  a  value,  as 
arising,  in  all  probability,  from  the  influence  of 
their  brother's  admiration.  It  was  generally  evi- 
dent, whenever  they  met,  that  he  did  admire  her; 
and  to  her  it  was  equally  evident  that  Jane  was 
yielding  to  the  preference  which  she  had  begun  to 
entertain  for  him  from  the  first,  and  was  in  a  way 
to  be  very  much  in  love;  but  she  considered  with 
pleasure  that  it  was  not  likely  to  be  discovered 
by  the  world  in  general,  since  Jane  united  with 
great  strength  of  feeling  a  composure  of  temper 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


33 


and  an  uniform  cheerfulness  of  manner,  which 
would  guard  her  from  the  suspicions  of  the  imper- 
tinent. She  mentioned  this  to  her  friend,  Miss 
Lucas. 

'^It  may,  perhaps,  be  pleasant,"  replied  Char- 
lotte, ^^to  be  able  to  impose  on  the  public  in  such 
a  case;  but  it  is  sometimes  a  disadvantage  to  be 
so  very  guarded.  If  a  woman  conceals  her  affec- 
tion with  the  same  skill  from  the  object  of  it, 
she  may  lose  the  opportunity  of  fixing  him;  and 
it  will  then  be  but  poor  consolation  to  believe 
the  world  equally  in  the  dark.  There  is  so  much 
of  gratitude  or  vanity  in  almost  every  attachment, 
that  it  is  not  safe  to  leave  any  to  itself.  We  can 
all  begin  freely, —  a  slight  preference  is  natural 
enough;  but  there  are  very  few  of  us  who  have 
heart  enough  to  be  really  in  love  without  encour- 
agement. In  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  a  woman  had 
better  show  more  affection  than  she  feels.  Bingley 
likes  your  sister  undoubtedly ;  but  he  may  never  do 
more  than  like  her,  if  she  does  not  help  him  on." 

*'But  she  does  help  him  on,  as  much  as  her 
nature  will  allow.  If  I  can  perceive  her  regard 
for  him,  he  must  be  a  simpleton  indeed  not  to 
discover  it  too." 

^'Kemember,  Eliza,  that  he  does  not  know 
Jane's  disposition  as  you  do." 

''But  if  a  woman  is  partial  to  a  man,  and  does 
not  endeavor  to  conceal  >  he  must  find  it  out." 

VOL.  I.  —  3 


34 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Perhaps  he  must  if  he  sees  enough  of  her. 
But  though  Bingley  and  Jane  meet  tolerahly 
often,  it  is  never  for  many  hours  together;  and  as 
they  always  see  each  other  in  large  mixed  parties, 
it  is  impossible  that  every  moment  should  be  em- 
ployed in  conversing  together.  Jane  should  there- 
fore make  the  most  of  every  half-hour  in  which 
she  can  command  his  attention.  When  she  is 
secure  of  him,  there  will  he  leisure  for  falling  in 
love  as  much  as  she  chooses.'' 

**Your  plan  is  a  good  one,''  replied  Elizabeth, 
''where  nothing  is  in  question  but  the  desire  of 
being  well  married;  and  if  I  were  determined  to 
get  a  rich  husband,  or  any  husband,  I  dare  say  I 
should  adopt  it.  But  these  are  not  Jane's  feel- 
ings; she  is  not  acting  by  design.  As  yet  she 
cannot  even  be  certain  of  the  degree  of  her  own 
regard,  nor  of  its  reasonableness.  She  has  known 
him  only  a  fortnight.  She  danced  four  dances 
with  him  at  Meryton;  she  saw  him  one  morning 
at  his  own  house,  and  has  since  dined  in  company 
with  him  four  times.  This  is  not  quite  enough 
to  make  her  understand  his  character." 

''Not  as  you  represent  it.  Had  she  merely 
dined  with  him,  she  might  only  have  discovered 
whether  he  had  a  good  appetite;  but  you  must 
remember  that  four  evenings  have  been  also  spent 
together  —  and  four  evenings  may  do  a  great 
deal." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  35 


*'Yes:  these  four  evenings  have  enabled  them 
to  ascertain  that  they  both  like  Vingt-un  better 
than  Commerce;  but  with  respect  to  any  other 
leading  characteristic,  I  do  not  imagine  that  much 
has  been  unfolded.'' 

*'Well,"  said  Charlotte,  ^^I  wish  Jane  success 
with  all  my  heart;  and  if  she  were  married  to  him 
to-morrow,  I  should  think  she  had  as  good  a 
chance  of  happiness  as  if  she  were  to  be  studying 
his  character  for  a  twelvemonth.  Happiness  in 
marriage  is  entirely  a  matter  of  chance.  If  the 
dispositions  of  the  parties  are  ever  so  well  known 
to  each  other,  or  ever  so  similar  beforehand,  it 
does  not  advance  their  felicity  in  the  least.  They 
always  continue  to  grow  sufficiently  unlike  after- 
wards to  have  their  share  of  vexation;  and  it  is 
better  to  know  as  little  as  possible  of  the  defects 
of  the  person  with  whom  you  are  to  pass  your  life." 

*^Youmakeme  laugh,  Charlotte;  but  it  is  not 
sound.  You  know  it  is  not  sound,  and  that  you 
would  never  act  in  this  way  yourself." 

Occupied  in  observing  Mr.  Bingley's  attentions 
to  her  sister,  Elizabeth  was  far  from  suspecting 
that  she  was  herself  becoming  an  object  of  some 
interest  in  the  eyes  of  his  friend.  Mr.  Darcy  had 
at  first  scarcely  allowed  her  to  be  pretty:  he  had 
looked  at  her  without  admiration  at  the  ball;  and 
when  they  next  met,  he  looked  at  her  only  to  criti- 
cise.   But  no  sooner  had  he  made  it  clear  to  himself 


36 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


and  his  friends  that  she  had  hardly  a  good  feature 
m  her  face  than  he  began  to  find  it  was  rendered 
uncommonly  intelligent  by  the  beautiful  expression 
of  her  dark  eyes.  To  this  discovery  succeeded  some 
others  equally  mortifying.  Though  he  had  detected 
with  a  critical  eye  more  than  one  failure  of  perfect 
symmetry  in  her  form,  he  was  forced  to  acknowl- 
edge her  figure  to  be  light  and  pleasing;  and  in 
spite  of  his  asserting  that  her  manners  were  not 
those  of  the  fashionable  world,  he  was  caught  by 
their  easy  playfulness.  Of  this  she  was  perfectly 
unaware:  to  her  he  was  only  the  man  who  made 
himself  agreeable  nowhere,  and  who  had  not 
thought  her  handsome  enough  to  dance  with. 

He  began  to  wish  to  know  more  of  her;  and  as 
a  step  towards  conversing  with  her  himself,  at- 
tended to  her  conversation  with  others.  His  doing 
so  drew  her  notice.  It  was  at  Sir  William  Lucas's, 
where  a  large  party  were  assembled. 

^^What  does  Mr.  Darcy  mean,''  said  she  to 
Charlotte,  ^^by  listening  to  my  conversation  with 
Colonel  Torster?" 

^^That  is  a  question  which  Mr.  Darcy  only  can 
answer." 

^^But  if  he  does  it  any  more,  I  shall  certainly 
let  him  know  that  I  see  what  he  is  about.  He  has 
a  very  satirical  eye,  and  if  I  do  not  begin  by  be- 
ing impertinent  myself,  I  shall  soon  grow  afraid 
of  him." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


37 


On  his  approaching  them  soon  afterwards,  though 
without  seeming  to  have  any  intention  of  speaking, 
Miss  Lucas  defied  her  friend  to  mention  such 
a  subject  to  him,  which  immediately  provoking 
Elizabeth  to  do  it,  she  turned  to  him  and  said,  — 

^'Did  not  you  think,  Mr.  Darcy,  that  I  ex- 
pressed myself  uncommonly  well  just  now,  when  I 
was  teasing  Colonel  Forster  to  give  us  a  ball  at 
Meryton?'' 

*^With  great  energy;  but  it  is  a  subject  which 
always  makes  a  lady  energetic.'' 
You  are  severe  on  us.'' 

*^It  will  be  her  turn  soon  to  be  teased,"  said 
Miss  Lucas.  ^^I  am  going  to  open  the  instru- 
ment, Eliza,  and  you  know  what  follows." 

''You  are  a  very  strange  creature  by  way  of  a 
friend!  —  always  wanting  me  to  play  and  sing  be- 
fore anybody  and  everybody!  If  my  vanity  had 
taken  a  musical  turn,  you  would  have  been  invalu- 
able; but  as  it  is,  I  would  really  rather  not  sit 
down  before  those  who  must  be  in  the  habit  of 
hearing  the  very  best  performers."  On  Miss 
Lucas's  persevering,  however,  she  added,  ''Very 
well;  if  it  must  be  so,  it  must."  And  gravely 
glancing  at  Mr.  Darcy,  ''  There  is  a  very  fine 
old  saying,  which  everybody  here  is  of  course  fa- 
miliar with,  —  'Keep  your  breath  to  cool  your 
porridge,' — and  I  shall  keep  mine  to  swell  my 
song." 


38  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Her  performance  was  pleasing,  tkougli  Tby  no 
means  capital.  After  a  song  or  two,  and  before 
she  could  reply  to  the  entreaties  of  several  that  she 
would  sing  again,  she  was  eagerly  succeeded  at  the 
instrument  by  her  sister  Mary,  who,  having,  in 
consequence  of  being  the  only  plain  one  in  the 
family,  worked  hard  for  knowledge  and  accom- 
plishments, was  always  impatient  for  display. 

Mary  had  neither  genius  nor  taste;  and  though 
vanity  had  given  her  application,  it  had  given  her 
likewise  a  pedantic  air  and  conceited  manner, 
which  would  have  injured  a  higher  degree  of  ex- 
cellence than  she  had  reached.  Elizabeth,  easy 
and  unaffected,  had  been  listened  to  with  much 
more  pleasure,  though  not  playing  half  so  well; 
and  Mary,  at  the  end  of  a  long  concerto,  was 
glad  to  purchase  praise  and  gratitude  by  Scotch 
and  Irish  airs,  at  the  request  of  her  younger  sis- 
ters, who  with  some  of  the  Lucases,  and  two  or 
three  officers,  joined  eagerly  in  dancing  at  one 
end  of  the  room. 

Mr.  Darcy  stood  near  them  in  silent  indignation 
at  such  a  mode  of  passing  the  evening,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  all  conversation,  and  was  too  much 
engrossed  by  his  own  thoughts  to  perceive  that  Sir 
William  Lucas  was  his  neighbor,  till  Sir  William 
thus  began :  — 

^^What  a  charming  amusement  for  young  peo- 
ple this  is,  Mr.  Darcy!    There  is  nothing  like 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


39 


dancing,  after  all.  I  consider  it  as  one  of  the  first 
refinements  of  polished  societies. 

Certainly,  sir;  and  it  has  the  advantage  also 
of  heing  in  vogue  amongst  the  less  polished  socie- 
ties of  the  world:  every  savage  can  dance." 

Sir  William  only  smiled.  **Your  friend  per- 
forms delightfully,''  he  continued,  after  a  pause, 
on  seeing  Bingley  join  the  group;  and  I  doubt 
not  that  you  are  an  adept  in  the  science  yourself, 
Mr.  Darcy." 

*^You  saw  me  dance  at  Meryton,  I  believe, 
sir.'' 

^^Yes,  indeed,  and  received  no  inconsiderable 
pleasure  from  the  sight.    Do  you  often  dance  at 
St.  James's  ?" 
Never,  sir." 

Do  you  not  think  it  would  be  a  proper  compli- 
ment to  the  place?  " 

*^It  is  a  compliment  which  I  never  pay  to  any 
place  if  I  can  avoid  it." 

You  have  a  house  in  town,  I  conclude."  \ 
Mr.  Darcy  bowed. 

"I  had  once  some  thoughts  of  fixing  in  town 
myself,  for  I  am  fond  of  superior  society;  but  I 
did  not  feel  quite  certain  that  the  air  of  London 
would  agree  with  Lady  Lucas." 

He  paused  in  hopes  of  an  answer:  but  his  com- 
panion was  not  disposed  to  make  any;  and,  Elizar 
beth  at  that  instant  moving  towards  them,  he  waa 


40  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


struck  witli  the  notion  of  doing  a  very  gallant 
thing,  and  called  out  to  her,  — 

My  dear  Miss  Eliza,  why  are  not  you  dancing? 
Mr.  Darcy,  you  must  allow  me  to  present  this 
young  lady  to  you  as  a  very  desirable  partner. 
You  cannot  refuse  to  dauce,  I  am  sure,  when  so 
much  beauty  is  before  you.''  And  taking  her 
hand,  he  would  have  given  it  to  Mr.  Darcy,  who, 
though  extremely  surprised,  was  not  unwilling  to 
receive  it,  when  she  instantly  drew  back,  and  said 
with  some  discomposure  to  Sir  William,  — 

Indeed,  sir,  I  have  not  the  least  intention  of 
dancing.  I  entreat  you  not  to  suppose  that  I 
moved  this  way  in  order  to  beg  for  a  partner.'' 

Mr.  Darcy,  with  grave  propriety,  requested  to 
be  allowed  the  honor  of  her  hand,  but  in  vain. 
Elizabeth  was  determined;  nor  did  Sir  William  at 
all  shake  her  purpose  b}'-  his  attempt  at  persuasion. 

*  *  You  excel  so  much  in  the  dance.  Miss  Eliza, 
that  it  is  cruel  to  deny  me  the  happiness  of  seeing 
you;  and  though  this  gentleman  dislikes  the 
amusement  in  general,  he  can  have  no  objection, 
I  am  sure,  to  oblige  us  for  one  half -hour." 

*^Mr.  Darcy  is  all  politeness,"  said  Elizabeth, 
smiling. 

*'He  is,  indeed;  but  considering  the  induce- 
ment, my  dear  Miss  Eliza,  we  cannot  wonder  at 
his  complaisance;  for  who  would  object  to  such  a 
partner?  ^* 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


41 


Elizabeth  looked  archly,  and  turned  away.  Her 
resistance  had  not  injured  her  with  the  gentleman, 
and  he  was  thinking  of  her  with  some  complacency, 
when  thus  accosted  by  Miss  Bingley, — 

"  I  can  guess  the  subject  of  your  reverie.'' 

^'1  should  imagine  not." 

^'You  are  considering  how  insupportable  it 
w^ould  be  to  pass  many  evenings  in  this  manner, 
—  in  such  society;  and,  indeed,  I  am  quite  of 
your  opinion.  I  was  never  more  annoyed!  The 
insipidity  and  yet  the  noise,  the  nothingness 
and  yet  the  self-importance,  of  all  these  people! 
What  would  I  give  to  hear  your  strictures  on 
them! '' 

"  Your  conjecture  is  totally  wrong,  I  assure  you. 
My  mind  was  more  agreeably  engaged.  I  have 
been  meditating  on  the  very  great  pleasure  which 
a  pair  of  fine  eyes  in  the  face  of  a  pretty  woman 
can  bestow.'' 

Miss  Bingley  immediately  fixed  her  eyes  on  his 
face,  and  desired  he  would  tell  her  what  lady  had 
the  credit  of   inspiring   such   reflections.  Mr. 
Darcy  replied,  with  great  intrepidity,  — 
Miss  Elizabeth  Bennet." 

Miss  Elizabeth  Bennet!  "  repeated  Miss  Bing- 
ley. ^'1  am  all  astonishment.  How  long  has 
she  been  such  a  favorite?  and  pray  when  am  I  to 
wish  you  joy?  " 

*^That  is  exactly  the  question  which  I  expected 


42 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


you  to  ask.  A  lady's  imagination  is  very  rapid; 
it  jumps  from  admiration  to  love,  from  love  to 
matrimony,  in  a  moment.  I  knew  you  would  be 
wishing  me  joy." 

^^Nay,  if  you  are  so  serious  about  it,  I  shall 
consider  the  matter  as  absolutely  settled.  You 
will  have  a  charming  mother-in-law,  indeed,  and 
of  course  she  will  be  always  at  Pemberley  with 
you.'' 

He  listened  to  her  with  perfect  indifference, 
while  she  chose  to  entertain  herself  in  this  manner; 
and  as  his  composure  convinced  her  that  all  was 
safe,  her  wit  flowed  along. 


CHAPTER  Vn. 


Mr.  Bennetts  property  consisted  almost  entirely 
in  an  estate  of  two  thousand  a  year,  which,  un- 
fortunately for  his  daughters,  was  entailed,  in  de- 
fault of  heirs  male,  on  a  distant  relation ;  and  their 
mother's  fortune,  though  ample  for  her  situation 
in  life,  could  but  ill  supply  the  deficiency  of  his. 
Her  father  had  been  an  attorney  in  Meryton,  and 
had  left  her  four  thousand  pounds. 

She  had  a  sister  married  to  a  Mr.  Philips,  who 
had  been  a  clerk  to  their  father,  and  succeeded  him 
in  the  business,  and  a  brother  settled  in  London  in 
a  respectable  line  of  trade. 

The  village  of  Longbourn  was  only  one  mile 
from  Meryton;  a  most  convenient  distance  for  the 
3^oung  ladies,  who  were  usually  tempted  thither 
three  or  four  times  a  week,  to  pay  their  duty  to 
their  aunt,  and  to  a  milliner's  shop  just  over  the 
way.  The  two  youngest  of  the  family,  Catherine 
and  Lydia,  were  particularly  frequent  in  these 
attentions:  their  minds  were  more  vacant  than 
their  sisters',  and  when  nothing  better  offered,  a 
walk  to  Meryton  was  necessary  to  amuse  their 
morning  hours  and  furnish  conversation  for  the 


44  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


evening;  and,  however  bare  of  news  the  country  in 
general  might  be,  they  always  contrived  to  learn 
some  from  their  aunt.  At  present,  indeed,  they 
were  well  supplied  both  with  news  and  happiness 
by  the  recent  arrival  of  a  militia  regiment  in  the 
neighborhood;  it  was  to  remain  the  whole  winter, 
and  Meryton  was  the  head-quarters. 

Their  visits  to  Mrs.  Philips  were  now  produc- 
tive of  the  most  interesting  intelligence.  Every 
day  added  something  to  their  knowledge  of  the 
officers'  names  and  connections.  Their  lodgings 
were  not  long  a  secret,  and  at  length  they  began 
to  know  the  officers  themselves.  Mr.  Philips 
visited  them  all,  and  this  opened  to  his  nieces  a 
source  of  felicity  unknown  before.  They  could 
talk  of  nothing  but  officers;  and  Mr.  Bingley's 
large  fortune,  the  mention  of  which  gave  anima- 
tion to  their  mother,  was  worthless  in  their  eyes 
when  opposed  to  the  regimentals  of  an  ensign. 

After  listening  one  morning  to  their  effusions 
on  this  subject,  Mr.  Bennet  coolly  observed,  — 

From  all  that  I  can  collect  by  your  manner  of 
talking,  you  must  be  two  of  the  silliest  girls  in 
the  country.  I  have  suspected  it  some  time,  but 
I  am  now  convinced." 

Catherine  was  disconcerted,  and  made  no  an- 
swer; but  Lydia,  with  perfect  indifference,  con- 
tinued to  express  her  admiration  of  Captain 
Carter,  and  her  hope  of  seeing  him  in  the  course 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


45 


of  the  day,  as  he  was  going  the  next  morning  to 
London. 

'^I  am  astonished,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Bennet, 
that  you  should  be  so  ready  to  think  your  own 
children  silly.    If  I  wished  to  think  slightingly 
of  anybody's  children,  it  should  not  be  of  my  own, 
however.'' 

^'If  my  children  are  silly,  I  must  hope  to  be 
always  sensible  of  it." 

*^Yes;  but  as  it  happens,  they  are  all  of  them 
very  clever." 

^^This  is  the  only  point,  I  flatter  myself,  on 
which  we  do  not  agree.  I  had  hoped  that  our 
sentiments  coincided  in  every  particular,  but  I 
must  so  far  differ  from  you  as  to  think  our  two 
youngest  daughters  uncommonly  foolish." 

My  dear  Mr.  Bennet,  jou  must  not  expect 
such  girls  to  have  the  sense  of  their  father  and 
mother.  When  they  get  to  our  age,  I  dare  say 
they  will  not  think  about  officers  any  more  than 
we  do.  I  remember  the  time  when  I  liked  a  red 
coat  myself  very  well,  —  and,  indeed,  so  I  do  still 
at  my  heart;  and  if  a  smart  young  colonel,  with 
five  or  six  thousand  a  year,  should  want  one  of  my 
girls,  I  shall  not  say  nay  to  him;  and  I  thought 
Colonel  Forster  looked  very  becoming  the  other 
night  at  Sir  William's  in  his  regimentals." 

^ 'Mamma,"  cried  Lydia,  ''my  aunt  says  that 
Colonel  Forster  and  Captain  Carter  do  not  go  so 


46 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


often  to  Miss  Watson's  as  they  did  when  they  first 
came;  she  sees  them  now  very  often  standing  in 
Clarke's  library." 

Mrs.  Bennet  was  prevented  replying  by  the 
entrance  of  the  footman  with  a  note  for  Miss 
Bennet;  it  came  from  Netherfield,  and  the  ser- 
vant waited  for  an  answer.  Mrs.  Bennet's  eyes 
sparkled  with  pleasure,  and  she  was  eagerly  call' 
ing  out,  while  her  daughter  read,  — 

Well,  Jane,  who  is  it  from?  What  is  it  about? 
What  does  he  say?  Well,  Jane,  make  haste  and 
tell  us;  make  haste,  mj  love." 

It  is  from  Miss  Bingley,"  said  Jane,  and  then 
read  it  aloud :  — 

My  dear  Friend,  —  If  you  are  not  so  compassion- 
ate as  to  dine  to-day  with  Louisa  and  me,  we  shall  be  in 
danger  of  hating  each  other  for  the  rest  of  our  lives ;  for 
a  whole  day's  tete-a-tete  between  two  women  can  never 
end  without  a  quarrel.  Come  as  soon  as  you  can  on  the 
receipt  of  this.  My  brother  and  the  gentlemen  are  to 
dine  with  the  officers. 

Yours  ever, 

Caroline  Bingley. 

^^With  the  officers!"  cried  Lydia;  I  wonder 
my  aunt  did  not  tell  us  of  that." 

Dining  out,"  said  Mrs.  Bennet;  that  is 
very  unlucky." 

Can  I  have  the  carriage?  "  said  Jane. 
<^No,  my  dear,  you  had  better  go  on  horseback, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


47 


because  it  seems  likely  to  rain ;  and  then  you  must 
stay  all  night.'' 

^^That  would  be  a  good  scheme/'  said  Eliza- 
beth, if  you  were  sure  that  they  would  not  offer 
to  send  her  home." 

'^Oh,  but  the  gentlemen  will  have  Mr.  Bing- 
ley's  chaise  to  go  to  Meryton;  and  the  Hursts 
have  no  horses  to  theirs." 

^'  I  had  much  rather  go  in  the  coach." 

*^But,  my  dear,  your  father  cannot  spare  the 
horses,  I  am  sure.  They  are  wanted  in  the  farm, 
Mr.  Bennet,  are  not  they?  " 

^^They  are  wanted  in  the  farm  much  oftener 
than  I  can  get  them." 

^*But  if  you  have  got  them  to-day,"  said  Eliza- 
beth, *^my  mother's  purpose  will  be  answered." 

She  did  at  last  extort  from  her  father  an  ac- 
knowledgment that  the  horses  were  engaged;  Jane 
was  therefore  obliged  to  go  on  horseback,  and  her 
mother  attended  her  to  the  door  with  many  cheer- 
ful prognostics  of  a  bad  day.  Her  hopes  were 
answered;  Jane  had  not  been  gone  long  before  it 
rained  hard.  Her  sisters  were  uneasy  for  her,  but 
her  mother  was  delighted.  The  rain  continued 
the  whole  evening  without  intermission;  Jane 
certainly  could  not  come  back. 

^^This  was  a  lucky  idea  of  mine,  indeed!  "  said 
Mrs.  Bennet,  more  than  once,  as  if  the  credit  of 
making  it  rain  were  all  her  own.    Till  the  next 


48  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 

morning,  however,  she  was  not  aware  of  all  the 
felicity  of  her  contrivance.  Breakfast  was  scarcely 
over  when  a  servant  from  Netherfield  hrought  the 
following  note  for  Elizaheth :  — 

My  dearest  Lizzy,  —  I  find  myself  very  unwell  this 
morning,  which,  I  suppose,  is  to  be  imputed  to  my  getting 
wet  through  yesterday.  My  kind  friends  will  not  hear  of 
my  returning  home  till  I  am  better.  They  insist  also  on 
my  seeing  Mr.  Jones  —  therefore  do  not  be  alarmed  if  you 
should  hear  of  his  having  been  to  mc  —  and,  excepting  a 
sore  throat  and  a  headache,  there  is  not  much  the  matter 

^^^^  Yours,  etc. 

^^Well,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Bennet,  when 
Elizabeth  had  read  the  note  aloud,  ^'if  your 
daughter  should  have  a  dangerous  fit  of  illness,  — 
if  she  should  die,  —  it  would  be  a  comfort  to  know 
that  it  was  all  in  pursuit  of  Mr.  Bingley,  and 
under  your  orders." 

*^0h,  I  am  not  at  all  afraid  of  her  dying. 
People  do  not  die  of  little  trifling  colds.  She  will 
be  taken  good  care  of.  As  long  as  she  stays  there, 
it  is  all  very  well.  I  would  go  and  see  her  if  I 
could  have  the  carriage." 

Elizabeth,  feeling  really  anxious,  determined  to 
go  to  her,  though  the  carriage  was  not  to  be  had; 
and  as  she  was  no  horsewoman,  walking  was  her 
only  alternative.    She  declared  her  resolution. 

How  can  you  be  so  silly,"  cried  her  mother, 

as  to  think  of  such  a  thing,  in  all  this  dirt! 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


49 


You  will  not  be  fit  to  be  seen  when  you  get 
there.'' 

^'1  shall  be  very  fit  to  see  Jane,  — which  is  all 
I  want." 

^^Is  this  a  hint  to  me,  Lizzy,"  said  her  father, 

to  send  for  the  horses?  " 

No,  indeed.  I  do  not  wish  to  avoid  the  walk. 
The  distance  is  nothing,  when  one  has  a  motive ; 
only  three  miles.    I  shall  be  back  by  dinner." 

''I  admire  the  activity  of  your  benevolence," 
observed  Mary,  ^'but  every  impulse  of  feeling 
should  be  guided  by  reason;  and,  in  my  opinion, 
exertion  should  always  be  in  proportion  to  what  is 
required." 

We  will  go  as  far  as  Meryton  with  you,"  said 
Catherine  and  Lydia.  Elizabeth  accepted  their  com- 
pany, and  the  three  young  ladies  set  off  together. 

**If  we  make  haste,"  said  Lydia,  as  they 
walked  along,  perhaps  we  may  see  something  of 
Captain  Carter,  before  he  goes." 

In  Meryton  they  parted:  the  two  youngest  re- 
paired to  the  lodgings  of  one  of  the  officers'  wives, 
and  Elizabeth  continued  her  walk  alone,  crossing 
field  after  field  at  a  quick  pace,  jumping  over 
stiles  and  springing  over  puddles  with  impatient 
activity,  and  finding  herself  at  last  within  view  of 
the  house,  with  weary  ankles,  dirty  stockings,  and 
a  face  glowing  with  the  warmth  of  exercise. 

She  was  shown  into  the  breakfast-parlor,  where 

VOL.  I.  —  4 


50  PHIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


all  but  Jane  were  assembled,  and  where  her  ap- 
pearance created  a  great  deal  of  surprise.  That 
she  should  have  walked  three  miles  so  early  in  the 
day  in  such  dirty  weather,  and  by  herself,  was  al- 
most incredible  to  Mrs.  Hurst  and  Miss  Bingley; 
and  Elizabeth  was  convinced  that  they  held  her  in 
contempt  for  it.  She  was  received,  however,  very 
politely  by  them;  and  in  their  brother's  manners 
there  was  something  better  than  politeness,  —  there 
was  good-humor  and  kindness.  Mr.  Darcy  said 
very  little,  and  Mr.  Hurst  nothing  at  all.  The 
former  was  divided  between  admiration  of  the  bril- 
liancy which  exercise  had  given  to  her  complexion 
and  doubt  as  to  the  occasion's  justifying  her  com- 
ing so  far  alone.  The  latter  was  thinking  only  of 
his  breakfast. 

Her  inquiries  after  her  sister  were  not  very  fa- 
vorably answered.  Miss  Bennet  had  slept  ill,  and 
though  up,  was  very  feverish,  and  not  well  enough 
to  leave  her  room.  Elizabeth  was  glad  to  be  taken 
to  her  immediately ;  and  Jane,  who  had  only  been 
withheld  by  the  fear  of  giving  alarm  or  incon- 
venience, from  expressing  in  her  note  how  much 
she  longed  for  such  a  visit,  was  delighted  at  her 
entrance.  She  was  not  equal,  however,  to  much 
conversation;  and  when  Miss  Bingley  left  them 
together,  could  attempt  little  beside  expressions  of 
gratitude  for  the  extraordinary  kindness  she  was 
treated  with.    Elizabeth  silently  attended  her. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  51 


When  breakfast  was  over,  they  were  joined  by 
the  sisters ;  and  Elizabeth  began  to  like  them  her- 
self, when  she  saw  how  much  affection  and  solici- 
tude they  showed  for  Jane.  The  apothecary  camej 
and  having  examined  his  patient,  said,  as  might 
be  supposed,  that  she  had  caught  a  violent  cold, 
and  that  they  must  endeavor  to  get  the  better  of 
it ;  advised  her  to  return  to  bed,  and  promised  her 
some  draughts.  The  advice  was  followed  readily, 
for  the  feverish  symptoms  increased,  and  her  head 
ached  acutely.  Elizabeth  did  not  quit  her  room 
for  a  moment,  nor  were  the  other  ladies  often 
absent;  the  gentlemen  being  out,  they  had  in  fact 
nothing  to  do  elsewhere. 

When  the  clock  struck  three,  Elizabeth  felt  that 
she  must  go,  and  very  unwillingly  said  so.  Miss 
Bingley  offered  her  the  carriage,  and  she  only 
wanted  a  little  pressing  to  accept  it,  when  Jane 
testified  such  concern  at  parting  with  her  that 
Miss  Bingley  was  obliged  to  convert  the  offer  of 
the  chaise  into  an  invitation  to  remain  at  Kether- 
field  for  the  present.  Elizabeth  most  thankfully 
consented,  and  a  servant  was  despatched  to  Long- 
bourn,  to  acquaint  tlie  family  with  her  stay,  and 
bring  back  a  supply  of  clothes. 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSmf  OF  ILLINOIS 


CHAPTER  Vin. 


At  five  o'clock  the  two  ladies  retired  to  dress,  and 
at  half -past  six  Elizabeth  was  summoned  to  dinner. 
To  the  civil  inquiries  which  then  poured  in,  and 
amongst  which  she  had  the  pleasure  of  distinguish- 
ing the  much  superior  solicitude  of  Mr.  Bingley, 
she  could  not  make  a  very  favorable  answer.  Jane 
was  by  no  means  better.  The  sisters,  on  hearing 
this,  repeated  three  or  four  times  how  much  they 
were  grieved,  how  shocking  it  was  to  have  a  bad 
cold,  and  how  excessively  they  disliked  being  ill 
themselves ;  and  then  thought  no  more  of  the  mat- 
ter :  and  their  indifference  towards  J ane,  when  not 
immediately  before  them,  restored  Elizabeth  to  the 
enjoyment  of  all  her  original  dislike. 

Their  brother,  indeed,  was  the  only  one  of  the 
party  whom  she  could  regard  with  any  compla- 
cency. His  anxiety  for  Jane  was  evident,  and 
his  attentions  to  herself  most  pleasing;  and  they 
prevented  her  feeling  herself  so  much  an  intruder 
as  she  believed  she  was  considered  by  the  others. 
She  had  very  little  notice  from  any  but  him. 
Miss  Bingley  was  engrossed  by  Mr.  Darcy,  her 
sister  scarcely  less  so;  and  as  for  Mr.  Hurst, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


53 


by  whom  Elizabeth  sat,  he  was  an  indolent  man, 
who  lived  only  to  eat,  drink,  and  play  at  cards, 
who,  when  he  found  her  prefer  a  plain  dish  to 
a  ragout,  had  nothing  to  say  to  her. 

When  dinner  was  over,  she  returned  directly  to 
Jane,  and  Miss  Bingley  began  abusing  her  as  soon 
as  she  was  out  of  the  room.  Her  manners  were 
pronounced  to  be  very  bad  indeed,  —  a  mixture  of 
pride  and  impertinence :  she  had  no  conversation, 
no  style,  no  taste,  no  beauty.  Mrs.  Hurst  thought 
the  same,  and  added,  — 

"  She  has  nothing,  in  short,  to  recommend  her, 
but  being  an  excellent  walker.  I  shall  never 
forget  her  appearance  this  morning.  She  really 
looked  almost  wild." 

She  did  indeed,  Louisa.  I  could  hardly  keep 
my  countenance.  Very  nonsensical  to  come  at  all! 
Why  must  she  be  scampering  about  the  country, 
because  her  sister  had  a  cold?  Her  hair  so  untidy, 
so  blowzy ! ' ' 

'^Yes,  and  her  petticoat;  I  hope  you  saw  her 
petticoat,  six  inches  deep  in  mud,  I  am  absolutely 
certain,  and  the  gown  which  had  been  let  down  to 
hide  it  not  doing  its  office.'^ 

^^Your  picture  may  be  very  exact,  Louisa," 
said  Bingley;  ^^but  this  was  all  lost  upon  me.  I 
thought  Miss  Elizabeth  Bennet  looked  remarkably 
well  when  she  came  into  the  room  this  morning. 
Her  dirty  petticoat  quite  escaped  my  notice." 


54 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


You  observed  it,  Mr.  Darcy,  I  am  sure,'*  said 
Miss  Bingleyj  and  I  am  inclined  to  think  tliat 
you  would  not  wish  to  see  your  sister  make  such 
an  exhibition.'' 

Certainly  not." 

^'To  walk  three  miles,  or  four  miles,  or  five 
miles,  or  whatever  it  is,  above  her  ankles  in  dirt, 
and  alone,  quite  alone!  what  could  she  mean  by 
it?  It  seems  to  me  to  show  an  abominable  sort  of 
conceited  independence,  a  most  country-town  in- 
difference to  decorum." 

^^It  shows  an  affection  for  her  sister  that  is 
very  pleasing,"  said  Bingley. 

^'I  am  afraid,  Mr.  Darcy,"  observed  Miss 
Bingley,  in  a  half  whisper,  ''that  this  adven- 
ture has  rather  affected  your  admiration  of  her 
fine  eyes." 

^'Not  at  all,"  he  replied:  ''they  were  bright- 
ened by  the  exercise."  A  short  pause  followed 
this  speech,  and  Mrs.  Hurst  began  again,  — 

"  T  have  an  excessive  regard  for  Jane  Bennet,  — 
she  is  really  a  very  sweet  girl,  —  and  I  wish  with 
all  my  heart  she  were  well  settled.  But  with  such 
a  father  and  mother,  and  such  low  connections,  I 
am  afraid  there  is  no  chance  of  it." 

"  I  think  I  have  heard  you  say  that  their  uncle 
is  an  attorney  in  Meryton?  " 

"Yes;  and  they  have  another  who  lives  some- 
where near  Cheapside." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


55 


'^That  is  capital,"  added  her  sister;  and  they 
both  laughed  heartily. 

^^If  they  had  uncles  enough  to  fill  all  Cheap- 
side/'  cried  Bingley,  ^^it  would  not  make  them 
one  jot  less  agreeable. 

^'But  it  must  very  materially  lessen  their 
chance  of  marrying  men  of  any  consideration  in 
the  world/'  replied  Darcy. 

To  this  speech  Bingley  made  no  answer;  but  his 
sisters  gave  it  their  hearty  assent,  and  indulged 
their  mirth  for  some  time  at  the  expense  of  their 
dear  friend's  vulgar  relations. 

With  a  renewal  of  tenderness,  however,  they  re- 
paired to  her  room  on  leaving  the  dining-parlor, 
and  sat  with  her  till  summoned  to  coffee.  She 
was  still  very  poorly,  and  Elizabeth  would  not 
quit  her  at  all,  till  late  in  the  evening,  when  she 
had  the  comfort  of  seeing  her  asleep,  and  when  it 
appeared  to  her  rather  right  than  pleasant  that  she 
should  go  dow:  -^'^ ' -s  herself.  On  entering  the 
drawing-room,  she  found  the  whole  party  at  loo, 
and  was  immediately  invited  to  join  them;  but 
suspecting  them  to  be  playing  high,  she  declined 
it,  and  making  her  sister  the  excuse,  said  she 
would  amuse  herself,  for  the  short  time  she  could 
stay  below,  with  a  book.  Mr.  Hurst  looked  at  her 
with  astonishment. 

^^Do  you  prefer  reading  to  cards?''  said  hej 

that  is  rather  singular." 


56 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


'^Miss  Eliza  Bennet/'  said  Miss  Bingley,  de- 
spises cards.  She  is  a  great  reader,  and  has  no 
pleasure  in  anything  else." 

^'1  deserve  neither  such  praise  nor  such  cen- 
sure," cried  Elizaheth;  I  am  not  a  great  reader, 
and  I  have  pleasure  in  many  things." 

^^In  nursing  your  sister  I  am  sure  you  have 
pleasure,"  said  Bingley;  ^'  and  I  hope  it  will  soon 
be  increased  by  seeing  her  quite  well." 

Elizabeth  thanked  him  from  her  heart,  and  then 
walked  towards  a  table  where  a  few  books  were 
lying.  He  immediately  offered  to  fetch  her  others ; 
all  that  his  library  afforded. 

"  And  I  wish  my  collection  were  larger  for  your 
benefit  and  my  own  credit;  but  I  am  an  idle  fel- 
low; and  though  I  have  not  many,  I  have  more 
than  I  ever  looked  into." 

Elizabeth  assured  him  that  she  could  suit  her- 
self perfectly  with  those  in  the  room. 

^^I  am  astonished,"  said  Miss  Bingley,  ^^that 
my  father  should  have  left  so  small  a  collection  of 
books.  What  a  delightful  library  you  have  at 
Pemberley,  Mr.  Darcy!  " 

**It  ought  to  be  good,"  he  replied;  it  has 
been  the  work  of  many  generations." 

And  then  you  have  added  so  much  to  it  your- 
self, —  you  are  always  buying  books." 

^'1  cannot  comprehend  the  neglect  of  a  family 
library  in  such  days  as  these." 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


57 


^'^N'eglect!    I  am  sure  you  neglect  nothing  that 
can  add  to   the   beauties  of   that  noble  place. 
Charles,  when  you  build  your  house,  I  wish  it  may 
be  half  as  delightful  as  Pemberley.'' 
I  wish  it  may.'' 

^^But  I  would  really  advise  you  to  make  your 
purchase  in  that  neighborhood,  and  take  Pemberley 
for  a  kind  of  model.  There  is  not  a  finer  county 
in  England  than  Derbyshire.'' 

*^With  all  my  heart:  I  will  buy  Pemberley  it- 
self, if  Darcy  will  sell  it." 

"  I  am  talking  of  possibilities,  Charles." 
Upon  my  word,  Caroline,  I  should  think  it 
more  possible  to  get  Pemberley  by  purchase  than 
by  imitation." 

Elizabeth  was  so  much  caught  by  what  passed, 
as  to  leave  her  very  little  attention  for  her  book; 
and  soon  laying  it  wholly  aside,  she  drew  near  the 
card-table,  and  stationed  herself  between  Mr.  Bing- 
ley  and  his  eldest  sister,  to  observe  the  game. 

Is  Miss  Darcy  much  grown  since  the  spring?  " 
said  Miss  Bingley;  ''will  she  be  as  tall  as  I  am?" 

^'  I  think  she  will.  She  is  now  about  Miss  Eliz- 
abeth Bennet's  height,  or  rather  taller." 

''Howl  long  to  see  her  again!  I  never  met 
with  anybody  who  delighted  me  so  much.  Such  a 
countenance,  such  manners,  and  so  extremely  ac- 
complished for  her  age.  Her  performance  on  the 
pianoforte  is  exquisite." 


68 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


*'lt  is  amazing  to  me,"  said  Bingley,  "how 
young  ladies  can  have  patience  to  he  so  very  ac- 
complished as  they  all  are." 

*^A11  young  ladies  accomplished!  My  dear 
Charles,  what  do  you  mean?  " 

"Yes,  all  of  them,  I  think.  They  all  paint 
tables,  cover  screens,  and  net  purses.  I  scarcely 
know  any  one  who  cannot  do  all  this;  and  I  am 
sure  I  never  heard  a  young  lady  spoken  of  for  the 
first  time,  without  being  informed  that  she  was 
very  accomplished." 

"Your  list  of  the  common  extent  of  accomplish- 
ments," said  Darcy,  "has  too  much  truth.  The 
word  is  applied  to  many  a  woman  who  deserves  it 
no  otherwise  than  by  netting  a  purse  or  covering  a 
screen;  but  I  am  very  far  from  agreeing  with  you 
in  your  estimation  of  ladies  in  general.  I  cannot 
boast  of  knowing  more  than  half  a  dozen  in  the 
whole  range  of  my  acquaintance  that  are  really 
accomplished." 

"Nor  I,  I  am  sure,"  said  Miss  Bingley. 

"Then,"  observed  Elizabeth,  "you  must  com- 
prehend a  great  deal  in  your  idea  of  an  accom- 
plished woman." 

"Yes;  I  do  comprehend  a  great  deal  in  it." 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  cried  his  faithful  assistant, 
"no  one  can  be  really  esteemed  accomplished  who 
does  not  greatly  surpass  what  is  usually  met  with. 
A  woman  must  have  a  thorough  knowledge  of 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


59 


music,  singing,  drawing,  dancing,  and  the  modern 
languages,  to  deserve  tlie  word;  and,  besides  all 
this,  she  must  possess  a  certain  something  in  her 
air  and  manner  of  walking,  the  tone  of  her  voice, 
her  address  and  expressions,  or  the  word  will  be 
but  half  deserved. 

^'All  this  she  must  possess,''  added  Darcy; 
^'and  to  all  she  must  yet  add  something  more  sub- 
stantial in  the  improvement  of  her  mind  by  exten- 
sive reading." 

'^I  am  no  longer  surprised  at  your  knowing 
only  six  accomplished  women.  I  rather  wonder 
now  at  your  knowing  any.'' 

^' Are  you  so  severe  upon  your  own  sex  as  to 
doubt  the  possibility  of  all  this?  " 

I  never  saw  such  a  woman.  I  never  saw  such 
capacity  and  taste  and  application  and  elegance 
as  you  describe  united." 

Mrs.  Hurst  and  Miss  Bingley  both  cried  out 
against  the  injustice  of  her  implied  doubt,  and 
were  both  protesting  that  they  knew  many  women 
who  answered  this  description,  when  Mr.  Hurst 
called  them  to  order,  with  bitter  complaints  of 
their  inattention  to  what  was  going  forward.  As 
all  conversation  was  thereby  at  an  end,  Elizabeth 
soon  afterwards  left  the  room. 

Eliza  Bennet,"  said  Miss  Bingley,  when  the 
door  was  closed  on  her,  is  one  of  those  young 
ladies  who  seek  to  recommend  themselves  to  the 


60 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


other  sex  by  undervaluing  their  own;  and  with 
many  men  I  dare  say  it  succeeds;  but,  in  my 
opinion,  it  is  a  paltry  device,  a  very  mean  art." 

Undoubtedly,'' replied  Darcy,  to  whom  this 
remark  was  chiefly  addressed,  there  is  meanness 
in  all  the  arts  which  ladies  sometimes  condescend 
to  employ  for  captivation.  Whatever  bears  affinity 
to  cunning  is  despicable.'' 

Miss  Bingley  was  not  so  entirely  satisfied  with 
this  reply  as  to  continue  the  subject. 

Elizabeth  joined  them  again  only  to  say  that 
her  sister  was  worse,  and  that  she  could  not  leave 
her.  Bingley  urged  Mr.  Jones's  being  sent  for 
immediately;  while  his  sisters,  convinced  that  no 
country  advice  could  be  of  any  service,  recom- 
mended an  express  to  town  for  one  of  the  most 
eminent  physicians.  This  she  would  not  hear  of; 
but  she  was  not  so  unwilling  to  comply  with  their 
brother's  proposal;  and  it  was  settled  that  Mr. 
Jones  should  be  sent  for  early  in  the  morning,  if 
Miss  Bennet  were  not  decidedly  better.  Bingley 
was  quite  uncomfortable;  his  sisters  declared  that 
they  were  miserable.  They  solaced  their  wretched- 
ness, however,  by  duets  after  supper,  while  he 
could  find  no  better  relief  to  his  feelings  than  by 
giving  his  housekeeper  directions  that  every  pos- 
sible attention  might  be  paid  to  the  sick  lady  and 
her  sister. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Elizabeth  passed  the  chief  of  the  night  in  her 
sister's  room,  and  in  the  morning  had  the  pleasure 
of  being  able  to  send  a  tolerable  answer  to  the  in- 
quiries which  she  very  early  received  from  Mr. 
Bingley  by  a  housemaid,  and  some  time  afterwards 
from  the  two  elegant  ladies  who  waited  on  his 
sisters.  In  spite  of  this  amendment,  however, 
she  requested  to  have  a  note  sent  to  Longbourn, 
desiring  her  mother  to  visit  Jane,  and  form  her 
own  judgment  of  her  situation.  The  note  was  im- 
mediately despatched,  and  its  contents  as  quickly 
complied  with.  Mrs.  Bennet,  accompanied  by 
her  two  youngest  girls,  reached  Netlierfield  soon 
after  the  family  breakfast. 

Had  she  found  Jane  in  any  apparent  danger, 
Mrs.  Bennet  would  have  been  very  miserable ;  but 
being  satisfied  on  seeing  her  that  her  illness  was 
not  alarming,  she  had  no  wish  of  her  recovering 
immediately,  as  her  restoration  to  health  would 
probably  remove  her  from  Netherfield.  She  would 
not  listen,  therefore,  to  her  daughter's  proposal  of 
being  carried  home;  neither  did  the  apothecary, 
who  arrived  about  the  same  time,  think  it  at  all 


62  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


advisable.  After  sitting  a  little  while  with  Jane, 
on  Miss  Bingley's  appearance  and  invitation,  the 
mother  and  three  daughters  all  attended  her  into 
the  breakfast-parlor.  Bingley  met  them  with 
hopes  that  Mrs.  Bennet  had  not  found  Miss 
Bennet  worse  than  she  expected. 

Indeed  I  have,  sir,''  was  her  answer.  '^She 
is  a  great  deal  too  ill  to  be  moved.  Mr.  Jones 
says  we  must  not  think  of  moving  her.  We  must 
trespass  a  little  longer  on  your  kindness.'' 

*'Bemoved!"  cried  Bingley.  ^'It  must  not 
be  thought  of.  My  sister,  I  am  sure,  will  not 
hear  of  her  removal." 

You  may  depend  upon  it,  madam,"  said  Miss 
Bingley,  with  cold  civility,  ^^that  Miss  Bennet 
shall  receive  every  possible  attention  while  she 
remains  with  us." 

Mrs.  Bennet  was  profuse  in  her  acknowledgments. 

^'1  am  sure,"  she  added,  ii  it  was  not  for  such 
good  friends,  I  do  not  know  what  would  become  of 
her,  for  she  is  very  ill  indeed,  and  suffers  a  vast 
deal,  though  with  the  greatest  patience  in  the 
world,  which  is  always  the  way  with  her,  for  she 
has,  without  exception,  the  sweetest  temper  I  ever 
met  with.  I  often  tell  my  other  girls  they  are 
nothing  to  her.  You  have  a  sweet  room  here,  Mr. 
Bingley,  and  a  charming  prospect  over  that  gravel 
walk.  I  do  not  know  a  place  in  the  country  that 
is  equal  to  Netherfield.    You  will  not  think  of 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


63 


quitting  it  in  a  hurry,  I  hope,  though  you  have 
but  a  short  lease.'' 

Whatever  I  do  is  done  in  a  hurry,''  replied 
he;  *^and  therefore  if  I  should  resolve  to  quit 
Netherfield,  I  should  probably  be  off  in  five  min- 
utes. At  present,  however,  I  consider  myself  as 
quite  fixed  here." 

^^That  is  exactly  what  I  should  have  supposed 
of  you,"  said  Elizabeth. 

You  begin  to  comprehend  me,  do  you?  "  cried 
he,  turning  towards  her. 

"  Oh,  yes;  I  understand  you  perfectly." 
I  wish  I  might  take  this  for  a  compliment;  but 
to  be  so  easily  seen  through  I  am  afraid  is  pitiful." 

*^That  is  as  it  happens.  It  does  not  necessarily 
follow  that  a  deep,  intricate  character  is  more  or 
less  estimable  than  such  a  one  as  yours." 

''Lizz}^,"  cried  her  mother,  remember  where 
you  are,  and  do  not  run  on  in  the  wild  manner 
that  you  are  suffered  to  do  at  home." 

"I  did  not  know  before,"  continued  Bingley, 
immediately,  ^^that  you  were  a  studier  of  char- 
acter.   It  must  be  an  amusing  study." 

*'Yes;  but  intricate  characters  are  the  most 
amusing.    They  have  at  least  that  advantage." 

^'The  country,"  said  Darcy,  '^can  in  general 
supply  but  few  subjects  for  such  a  study.  In  a 
country  neighborhood  you  move  in  a  very  confined 
and  unvarying  society." 


64  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


'^But  people  themselves  alter  so  mucli  that 
there  is  something  new  to  be  observed  in  them 
forever/' 

**Yes,  indeed,"  cried  Mrs.  Bennet,  offended  by 
his  manner  of  mentioning  a  country  neighborhood. 

assure  you  there  is  quite  as  much  of  that  going 
on  in  the  country  as  in  town.'' 

Everybody  was  surprised;  and  Darcy,  after 
looking  at  her  for  a  moment,  turned  silently  away. 
Mrs.  Bennet,  who  fancied  she  had  gained  a  com- 
plete victory  over  him,  continued  her  triumph. 

^'1  cannot  see  that  London  has  any  great  ad- 
vantage over  the  country,  for  my  part,  except  the 
shops  and  public  places.  The  country  is  a  vast 
deal  pleasanter,  is  not  it,  Mr.  Bingley?  " 

'^When  I  am  in  the  country,"  he  replied,  ^^I 
never  wish  to  leave  it;  and  when  I  am  in  town, 
it  is  pretty  much  the  same.  They  have  each 
their  advantages,  and  I  can  be  equally  happy  in 
either." 

^^Ay,  that  is  because  you  have  the  right  dis- 
position. But  that  gentleman,"  looking  at  Darcy, 
^'  seemed  to  think  the  country  was  nothing  at  all." 

''Indeed,  mamma,  you  are  mistaken,"  said 
Elizabeth,  blushing  for  her  mother.  ''You  quite 
mistook  Mr.  Darcy.  He  only  meant  that  there 
was  not  such  a  variety  of  people  to  be  met  with  in 
the  country  as  in  town,  which  you  must  acknowl- 
edge to  be  true." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  65 


''Certainly,  my  dear,  nobody  said  there  were; 
but  as  to  not  meeting  with  many  people  in  this 
neighborhood,  I  believe  there  are  few  neighbor- 
hoods larger.  I  know  we  dine  with  four-and- 
twenty  families.'' 

Nothing  but  concern  for  Elizabeth  could  enable 
Bingley  to  keep  his  countenance.  His  sister  was 
less  delicate,  and  directed  her  eye  towards  Mr. 
Darcy  with  a  very  expressive  smile.  Elizabeth, 
for  the  sake  of  saying  something  that  might  turn 
her  mother's  thoughts,  now  asked  her  if  Charlotte 
Lucas  had  been  at  Longbourn  since  her  coming 
away. 

'^Yes;  she  called  yesterday  with  her  father. 
What  an  agreeable  man  Sir  "William  is,  Mr. 
Bingley,  — is  not  he?  so  much  the  man  of  fashion, 
so  genteel,  and  so  easy !  He  has  always  something 
to  say  to  everybody.  That  is  my  idea  of  good 
breeding;  and  those  persons  who  fancy  themselves 
very  important  and  never  open  their  mouths,  quite 
mistake  the  matter.'' 

*'Did  Charlotte  dine  with  you?  " 

'^Ko;  she  would  go  home.  I  fancy  she  was 
wanted  about  the  mince-pies.  For  my  part,  Mr. 
Bingley,  I  always  keep  servants  that  can  do  their 
own  work;  my  daughters  are  brought  up  differ- 
ently. But  everybody  is  to  judge  for  themselves, 
and  the  Lucases  are  a  very  good  sort  of  girls,  I 
assure  you.    It  is  a  pity  they  are  not  handsome! 

VOL.  I.  —  5 


66  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Not  that  I  think  Charlotte  so  very  plain;  but  then 
she  is  our  particular  friend. 

^'She  seems  a  very  pleasant  young  woman,'' 
said  Bingley. 

*^0h  dear,  yes;  but  you  must  own  she  is  very 
plain.  Lady  Lucas  herself  has  often  said  so,  and 
envied  me  Jane's  beauty.  I  do  not  like  to  boast 
of  my  own  child;  but  to  be  sure,  Jane — one  does 
not  often  see  anybody  better  looking.  It  is  what 
everybody  says.  I  do  not  trust  my  own  partiality. 
When  she  was  only  fifteen  there  was  a  gentleman 
at  my  brother  Gardiner's  in  town  so  much  in  love 
with  her,  that  my  sister-in-law  was  sure  he  would 
make  her  an  offer  before  we  came  away.  But, 
however,  he  did  not.  Perhaps  he  thought  her  too 
young.  However,  he  wrote  some  verses  on  her, 
and  very  pretty  they  were.'' 

^^And  so  ended  his  affection,"  said  Elizabeth, 
impatiently.  There  has  been  many  a  one,  I 
fancy,  overcome  in  the  same  way.  I  wonder  who 
first  discovered  the  efiicacy  of  poetry  in  driving 
away  love!  " 

have  been  used  to  consider  poetry  as  the 
food  of  love,"  said  Darcy. 

*^0f  a  fine,  stout,  healthy  love  it  may.  Every- 
thing nourishes  what  is  strong  already.  But  if  it 
be  only  a  slight,  thin  sort  of  inclination,  I  am 
convinced  that  one  good  sonnet  will  starve  it 
entirely  away." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


67 


Darcy  only  smiled ;  and  the  general  pause  which 
ensued  made  Elizabeth  tremble  lest  her  mother 
should  be  exposing  herself  again.  She  longed  to 
speak,  but  could  think  of  nothing  to  say;  and 
after  a  short  silence  Mrs.  Bennet  began  repeating 
her  thanks  to  Mr.  Bingley  for  his  kindness  to 
Jane,  with  an  apology  for  troubling  him  also  with 
Lizzy.  Mr.  Bingley  was  unaffectedly  civil  in  his 
answer,  and  forced  his  younger  sister  to  be  civil 
also,  and  say  what  the  occasion  required.  She 
performed  her  part,  indeed,  without  much  gra- 
ciousness;  but  Mrs.  Bennet  was  satisfied,  and  soon 
afterwards  ordered  her  carriage.  Upon  this  signal 
the  youngest  of  her  daughters  put  herself  forward. 
The  two  girls  had  been  whispering  to  each  other 
during  the  whole  visit;  and  the  result  of  it  was 
that  the  youngest  should  tax  Mr.  Bingley  with 
having  promised  on  his  first  coming  into  the 
country  to  give  a  ball  at  Netherfield. 

Lydia  was  a  stout,  well-grown  girl  of  fifteen, 
with  a  fine  complexion  and  good-humored  coun- 
tenance ;  a  favorite  with  her  mother,  whose  affec- 
tion had  brought  her  into  public  at  an  early  age. 
She  had  high  animal  spirits,  and  a  sort  of  natural 
self-consequence,  which  the  attentions  of  the  offi- 
cers, to  whom  her  uncle's  good  dinners  and  her 
own  easy  manners  recommended  her,  had  increased 
into  assurance.  She  was  very  equal,  therefore,  to 
address  Mr.  Bingley  on  the  subject  of  the  ball, 


68 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


and  abruptly  reminded  him  of  his  promise;  add- 
ing that  it  would  be  the  most  shameful  thing  in 
the  world  if  he  did  not  keep  it.  His  answer  to 
this  sudden  attack  was  delightful  to  her  mother's 
ear. 

^^I  am  perfectly  ready,  I  assure  you,  to  keep 
my  engagement;  and  when  your  sister  is  recov- 
ered, you  shall,  if  you  please,  name  the  very  day 
of  the  ball.  But  you  would  not  wish  to  be  dancing 
while  she  is  ill?'' 

Lydia  declared  herself  satisfied.  Oh,  yes, —  it 
would  be  much  better  to  wait  till  Jane  was  well; 
and  by  that  time,  most  likely.  Captain  Carter 
would  be  at  Meryton  again.  And  when  you  have 
given  your  ball,"  she  added,  ^^I  shall  insist  on 
their  giving  one  also.  I  shall  tell  Colonel  Torster 
it  will  be  quite  a  shame  if  he  does  not." 

Mrs.  Bennet  and  her  daughters  then  departed, 
and  Elizabeth  returned  instantly  to  Jane,  leaving 
her  own  and  her  relations'  behavior  to  the  remarks 
of  the  two  ladies  and  Mr.  Darcy;  the  latter  of 
whom,  however,  could  not  be  prevailed  on  to  join 
in  their  censure  of  her,  in  spite  of  all  Miss 
Bingley's  witticisms  on  fine  eyes. 


CHAPTEE  X. 


The  day  passed  mucli  as  the  day  before  had  done. 
Mrs.  Hurst  and  Miss  Bingley  had  spent  some 
hours  of  the  morning  with  the  invalid,  who  con- 
tinued, though  slowly,  to  mend;  and  in  the 
evening  Elizabeth  joined  their  party  in  the  draw- 
ing-room. The  loo  table,  however,  did  not  ap- 
pear. Mr.  Darcy  was  writing,  and  Miss  Bingley, 
seated  near  him,  was  watching  the  progress  of  his 
letter,  and  repeatedly  calling  off  his  attention  by 
messages  to  his  sister.  Mr.  Hurst  and  Mr.  Bing- 
ley were  at  piquet,  and  Mrs.  Hurst  was  observing 
their  game. 

Elizabeth  took  up  some  needlework,  and  was 
sufficiently  amused  in  attending  to  what  passed 
between  Darcy  and  his  companion.  The  perpetual 
commendations  of  the  lady  either  on  his  hand- 
writing, or  on  the  evenness  of  his  lines,  or  on  the 
length  of  his  letter,  with  the  perfect  unconcern 
with  which  her  praises  were  received,  formed  a 
curious  dialogue,  and  was  exactly  in  unison  with 
her  opinion  of  each. 

"How  delighted  Miss  Darcy  will  be  to  receive 
8uch  a  letter!  " 


70  PRroE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


He  made  no  answer. 

^'  You  write  uncommonly  fast." 
You  are  mistaken.    I  write  rather  slowly.'' 

*^How  many  letters  you  must  have  occasion  to 
write  in  the  course  of  a  year !  Letters  of  business, 
too!    How  odious  I  should  think  them! 

^'It  is  fortunate,  then,  that  they  fall  to  my  lot 
instead  of  to  yours.'' 

*^Pray  tell  your  sister  that  I  long  to  see  her.'' 

^'I  have  already  told  her  so  once,  by  your 
desire." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  do  not  like  your  pen.    Let  me 
mend  it  for  you.    I  mend  pens  remarkably  well." 
^'  Thank  you,  —  but  I  always  mend  my  own." 

How  can  you  contrive  to  write  so  even?  " 
He  was  silent. 

*^Tell  your  sister  I  am  delighted  to  hear  of  her 
improvement  on  the  harp,  and  pray  let  her  know 
that  I  am  quite  in  raptures  with  her  beautiful 
little  design  for  a  table,  and  I  think  it  infinitely 
superior  to  Miss  Grantley's." 

Will  you  give  me  leave  to  defer  your  raptures 
till  I  write  again?  At  present  I  have  not  room  to 
do  them  justice." 

^'Oh,  it  is  of  no  consequence.  I  shall  see  her 
in  January.  But  do  you  always  write  such 
charming  long  letters  to  her,  Mr.  Darcy?" 

*^They  are  generally  long;  but  whether  always 
charming,  it  is  not  for  me  to  determine." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


71 


*'It  is  a  rule  with  me.  that  a  person  who  can 
write  a  long  letter  with  ease  cannot  write  ill.'' 

^^That  will  not  do  for  a  compliment  to  Darcy, 
Caroline/'  cried  her  brother,  because  he  does  not 
write  with  ease.  He  studies  too  much  for  words 
of  four  syllables.    Do  not  you,  Darcy?  " 

*^My  style  of  writing  is  very  different  from 
yours." 

''Oh,"  cried  Miss  Bingley,  Charles  writes  in 
the  most  careless  way  imaginable.  He  leaves  out 
half  his  words,  and  blots  the  rest." 

My  ideas  flow  so  rapidly  that  I  have  not  time 
to  express  them;  by  which  means  my  letters  some- 
times convey  no  ideas  at  all  to  my  correspondents." 

Your  humilit}^,  Mr.  Bingley,"  said  Elizabeth, 
must  disarm  reproof." 

Nothing  is  more  deceitful,"  said  Darcy, 
^'than  the  appearance  of  humility.  It  is  often 
only  carelessness  of  opinion,  and  sometimes  an 
indirect  boast." 

'*And  which  of  the  two  do  you  call  my  little 
recent  piece  of  modesty?  " 

*'The  indirect  boast;  for  you  are  really  proud  of 
your  defects  in  writing,  because  you  consider  them 
as  proceeding  from  a  rapidity  of  thought  and  care- 
lessness of  execution,  which,  if  not  estimable,  you 
think  at  least  highly  interesting.  The  power  of 
doing  anything  with  quickness  is  always  much 
prized  by  the  possessor,  and  often  without  any 


72 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


attention  to  tlie  imperfection  of  the  performance. 
When  you  told  Mrs.  Bennet  this  morning,  that 
if  you  ever  resolved  on  quitting  I^etherfield  you 
should  be  gone  in  five  minutes,  you  meant  it  to  be 
a  sort  of  panegyric,  of  compliment  to  yourself; 
and  yet  what  is  there  so  very  laudable  in  a  pre- 
cipitance which  must  leave  very  necessary  busi- 
ness undone,  and  can  be  of  no  real  advantage  to 
yourself  or  any  one  else?'' 

^'Nay, "  cried  Bingley,  ^^this  is  too  much  to 
remember  at  night  all  the  foolish  things  that  were 
said  in  the  morning.  And  yet,  upon  my  honor,  i 
believed  what  I  said  of  myself  to  be  true,  and  I 
believe  it  at  this  moment.  At  least,  therefore, 
I  did  not  assume  the  character  of  needless  precipi- 
tance merely  to  show  off  before  the  ladies. 

^'I  dare  say  you  believed  it;  but  I  am  by  no 
means  convinced  that  you  would  be  gone  with 
such  celerity.  Your  conduct  would  be  quite  as 
dependent  on  chance  as  that  of  any  man  I  know; 
and  if,  as  you  were  mounting  your  horse,  a  friend 
were  to  say,  *  Bingley,  you  had  better  stay  till 
next  week, '  you  would  probably  do  it,  —  you 
would  probably  not  go,  —  and,  at  another  word, 
might  stay  a  month." 

You  have  only  proved  by  this,''  cried  Eliza- 
beth, ^'that  Mr.  Bingley  did  not  do  justice  to  his 
own  disposition.  You  have  shown  him  off  now 
much  more  than  he  did  himself." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


73 


^'I  am  exceedingly  gratified,''  said  Bingley, 
*^by  your  converting  what  my  friend  says  into 
a  compliment  on  the  sweetness  of  my  temper. 
But  I  am  afraid  you  are  giving  it  a  turn  which 
that  gentleman  did  by  no  means  intend;  for  he 
would  certainly  think  the  better  of  me  if  under 
such  a  circumstance  I  were  to  give  a  flat  denial, 
and  ride  off  as  fast  as  I  could.'' 

Would  Mr.  Darcy  then  consider  the  rashness 
of  your  original  intention  as  atoned  for  by  your 
obstinacy  in  adhering  to  it?" 

Upon  my  word,  I  cannot  exactly  explain  the 
matter,  —  Darcy  must  speak  for  himself." 

You  expect  me  to  account  for  opinions  which 
you  choose  to  call  mine,  but  which  I  have  never 
acknowledged.  Allowing  the  case,  however,  to 
stand  according  to  your  representation,  you  must 
remember.  Miss  Bennet,  that  the  friend  who  is 
supposed  to  desire  his  return  to  the  house,  and  the 
delay  of  his  plan,  has  merely  desired  it,  asked  it 
without  offering  one  argument  in  favor  of  its 
propriety." 

To  yield  readily  —  easily  —  to  the  persuasion 
of  a  friend  is  no  merit  with  you." 

To  yield  without  conviction  is  no  compliment 
to  the  understanding  of  either." 

You  appear  to  me,  Mr.  Darcy,  to  allow  noth- 
ing for  the  influence  of  friendship  and  affection. 
A  regard  for  the  requester  would  often  make  one 


74  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


readily  yield  to  a  request,  without  waiting  for  ar- 
guments to  reason  one  into  it.  I  am  not  particu- 
larly speaking  of  such  a  case  as  you  have  supposed 
about  Mr.  Bingley.  We  may  as  well  wait,  per- 
haps, till  the  circumstance  occurs,  before  we  dis- 
cuss the  discretion  of  his  behavior  thereupon. 
But  in  general  and  ordinary  cases,  between  friend 
and  friend,  where  one  of  them  is  desired  by  the 
other  to  change  a  resolution  of  no  very  great 
moment,  should  you  think  ill  of  that  person  for 
complying  with  the  desire,  without  waiting  to 
be  argued  into  it?'' 

Will  it  not  be  advisable,  before  we  proceed  on 
this  subject,  to  arrange  with  rather  more  precision 
the  degree  of  importance  which  is  to  appertain  to 
this  request,  as  well  as  the  degree  of  intimacy 
subsisting  between  the  parties?'' 

By  all  means,"  cried  Bingley;  ^'\et  us  hear 
all  the  particulars,  not  forgetting  their  compara- 
tive height  and  size,  for  that  will  have  more 
weight  in  the  argument.  Miss  Bennet,  than  you 
may  be  aware  of.  I  assure  you  that  if  Darcy  were 
not  such  a  great  tall  fellow,  in  comparison  with 
myself,  I  should  not  pay  him  half  so  much  defer- 
ence. I  declare  I  do  not  know  a  more  awful 
object  than  Darcy  on  particular  occasions  and  in 
particular  places;  at  his  own  house  especially, 
and  of  a  Sunday  evening,  when  he  has  nothing 
to  do." 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


75 


Mr.  Darcy  smiled;  but  Elizabeth  thought  she 
could  perceive  that  he  was  rather  offended,  and 
therefore  checked  her  laugh.  Miss  Bingley  warmly 
resented  the  indignity  he  had  received,  in  an  ex- 
postulation with  her  brother  for  talking  such 
nonsense. 

^^Isee  your  design,  Bingley,''  said  his  friend. 
*^You  dislike  an  argument,  and  want  to  silence 
this.'' 

Perhaps  I  do.  Arguments  are  too  much  like 
disputes.  If  you  and  Miss  Bennet  will  defer 
yours  till  I  am  out  of  the  room,  I  shall  be  very 
thankful;  and  then  you  may  say  whatever  you 
like  of  me." 

**What  you  ask,"  said  Elizabeth,  ^Ms  no  sacri- 
fice on  m}'  side ;  and  Mr.  Darcy  had  much  better 
finish  his  letter." 

Mr.  Darcy  took  her  advice,  and  did  finish  his 
letter. 

When  that  business  was  over,  he  applied  to  Miss 
Bingley  and  Elizabeth  for  the  indulgence  of  some 
music.  Miss  Bingley  moved  with  alacrity  to  the 
pianoforte,  and  after  a  polite  request  that  Eliza- 
beth would  lead  the  way,  which  the  other  as 
politely  and  more  earnestly  negatived,  she  seated 
herself. 

Mrs.  Hurst  sang  with  her  sister;  and  while 
they  were  thus  employed,  Elizabeth  could  not  help 
observing,  as  she  turned  over  some  music-books 


76  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


that  lay  on  the  instrument,  how  frequently  Mr. 
Darcy's  eyes  were  fixed  on  her.  She  hardly  knew 
how  to  suppose  that  she  could  be  an  object  of  ad- 
miration to  so  great  a  man,  and  yet  that  he  should 
look  at  her  because  he  disliked  her  was  still  more 
strange.  She  could  only  imagine,  however,  at 
last,  that  she  drew  his  notice  because  there  was  a 
something  about  her  more  wrong  and  reprehensi- 
ble, according  to  his  ideas  of  right,  than  in  any 
other  person  present.  The  supposition  did  not 
pain  her.  She  liked  him  too  little  to  care  for 
his  approbation. 

After  playing  some  Italian  songs.  Miss  Bingley 
varied  the  charm  by  a  lively  Scotch  air;  and  soon 
afterwards  Mr.  Darcy,  drawing  near  Elizabeth, 
said  to  her,  — 

^^Do  not  you  feel  a  great  inclination.  Miss  Ben- 
net,  to  seize  such  an  opportunity  of  dancing  a 
reel? 

She  smiled,  but  made  no  answer.  He  repeated 
the  question,  with  some  surprise  at  her  silence. 

*^0h,''  said  she,  ''I  heard  you  before;  but  1 
could  not  immediately  determine  what  to  say  in 
reply.  You  wanted  me,  I  know,  to  say  *Yes,' 
that  you  might  have  the  pleasure  of  despising  my 
taste;  but  I  always  delight  in  overthrowing  those 
kind  of  schemes,  and  cheating  a  person  of  their 
premeditated  contempt.  I  have  therefore  made 
up  my  mind  to  tell  you  that  I  do  not  want  to 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


77 


dance  a  reel  at  all;  and  now  despise  me  if  you 
dare/' 

''Indeed  I  do  not  dare/' 

Elizabeth,  having  rather  expected  to  affront  him, 
was  amazed  at  his  gallantry;  hut  there  was  a  mix- 
ture of  sweetness  and  archness  in  her  manner 
which  made  it  difficult  for  her  to  affront  anybody, 
and  Darcy  had  never  been  so  bewitched  by  any 
woman  as  he  was  by  her.  He  really  believed  that, 
were  it  not  for  the  inferiority  of  her  connections, 
he  should  be  in  some  danger. 

Miss  Bingley  saw  or  suspected  enough  to  be 
jealous;  and  her  great  anxiety  for  the  recovery  of 
her  dear  friend  Jane  received  some  assistance  from 
her  desire  of  getting  rid  of  Elizabeth. 

She  often  tried  to  provoke  Darcy  in  dis- 
liking her  guest,  by  talking  of  their  supposed 
marriage,  and  planning  his  happiness  in  such  an 
alliance. 

''I  hope,"  said  she,  as  they  were  walking  to- 
gether in  the  shrubbery  the  next  day,  ''you  will 
give  your  mother-in-law  a  few  hints,  when  this 
desirable  event  takes  place,  as  to  the  advantage  of 
holding  her  tongue ;  and  if  you  can  compass  it,  to 
cure  the  younger  girls  of  running  after  the  officers. 
And,  if  I  may  mention  so  delicate  a  subject,  en- 
deavor to  check  that  little  something,  bordering 
on  conceit  and  impertinence,  which  your  lady 
possesses/' 


78 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


''Have  you  anything  else  to  propose  for  my 
domestic  felicity?'' 

''  Oh,  yes.  Do  let  the  portraits  of  your  uncle 
and  aunt  Philips  he  placed  in  the  gallery  at  Pem- 
herley.  Put  them  next  to  your  great-uncle  the 
judge.  They  are  in  the  same  profession,  you 
know,  only  in  different  lines.  As  for  your  Eliza- 
beth's picture,  you  must  not  attempt  to  have  it 
taken,  for  what  painter  could  do  justice  to  those 
beautiful  eyes?  " 

''It  would  not  he  easy,  indeed,  to  catch  their 
expression;  hut  their  color  and  shape,  and  the 
eyelashes,  so  remarkably  fine,  might  be  copied." 

At  that  moment  they  were  met  from  another 
walk  by  Mrs.  Hurst  and  Elizabeth  herself. 

"I  did  not  know  that  you  intended  to  walk," 
said  Miss  Bingley,  in  some  confusion,  lest  they 
had  been  overheard. 

"You  used  us  abominably  ill,"  answered  Mrs. 
Hurst,  "running  away  without  telling  us  that 
you  were  coming  out." 

Then  taking  the  disengaged  arm  of  Mr.  Darcy, 
she  left  Elizabeth  to  walk  by  herself.  The  path 
just  admitted  three.  Mr.  Darcy  felt  their  rude- 
ness, and  immediately  said,  — 

"This  walk  is  not  wide  enough  for  our  party. 
We  had  better  go  into  the  avenue." 

But  Elizabeth,  who  had  not  the  least  inclination 
to  remain  with  them,  laughingly  answered,  — 


PEroE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


79 


'^No,  no;  stay  where  you  are.  You  are  charm- 
ingly grouped,  and  appear  to  uncommon  advantage. 
The  picturesque  would  be  spoiled  by  admitting  a 
fourth.  Good-by.'' 

She  then  ran  gayly  off,  rejoicing,  as  she  rambled 
about,  in  the  hope  of  being  at  home  again  in  a  day 
or  two.  Jane  was  already  so  much  recovered  as 
to  intend  leaving  her  room  for  a  couple  of  hours 
that  evening. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


When  the  ladies  removed  after  dinner,  Elizabeth 
ran  up  to  her  sister,  and  seeing  her  well  guarded 
from  cold,  attended  her  into  the  drawing-room, 
where  she  was  welcomed  by  her  two  friends  with 
many  professions  of  pleasure;  and  Elizabeth  had 
never  seen  them  so  agreeable  as  they  were  during 
the  hour  which  passed  before  the  gentlemen  ap- 
peared. Their  powers  of  conversation  were  consid- 
erable. They  could  describe  an  entertainment 
with  accuracy,  relate  an  anecdote  with  humor,  and 
laugh  at  their  acquaintance  with  spirit. 

But  when  the  gentlemen  entered,  Jane  was  no 
longer  the  first  object;  Miss  Bingley's  eyes  were 
instantly  turned  towards  Darcy,  and  she  had  some- 
thing to  say  to  him  before  he  had  advanced  many 
steps.  He  addressed  himself  directly  to  Miss  Ben- 
net  with  a  polite  congratulation;  Mr.  Hurst  also 
made  her  a  slight  bow,  and  said  he  was  ^^very 
glad; but  diffuseness  and  warmth  remained  for 
Bingley's  salutation.  He  was  full  of  joy  and  at- 
tention. The  first  half-hour  was  spent  in  piling 
up  the  fire,  lest  she  should  suffer  from  the  change 
of  room;  and  she  removed,  at  his  desire,  to  the 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


81 


other  side  of  the  fireplace,  that  she  might  be 
farther  from  the  door.  He  then  sat  down  by  her, 
and  talked  scarcely  to  any  one  else.  Elizabeth, 
at  work  in  the  opposite  corner,  saw  it  all  with 
great  delight. 

When  tea  was  over,  Mr.  Hurst  reminded  his 
sister-in-law  of  the  card-table,  —  but  in  vain.  She 
had  obtained  private  intelligence  that  Mr.  Darcy 
did  not  wish  for  cards,  and  Mr.  Hurst  soon  found 
even  his  open  petition  rejected.  She  assured  him 
that  no  one  intended  to  play,  and  the  silence  of 
the  whole  party  on  the  subject  seemed  to  justify 
her.  Mr.  Hurst  had,  therefore,  nothing  to  do  but 
to  stretch  himself  on  one  of  the  sofas  and  go  to 
sleep.  Darcy  took  up  a  book.  Miss  Bingley  did 
the  same;  and  Mrs.  Hurst,  principally  occupied 
in  playing  with  her  bracelets  and  rings,  joined 
now  and  then  in  her  brother's  conversation  with 
Miss  Bennet. 

Miss  Bingley's  attention  was  quite  as  much 
engaged  in  watching  Mr.  Darcy's  progress  through 
his  book,  as  in  reading  her  own;  and  she  was  per- 
petually either  making  some  inquiry  or  looking 
at  his  page.  She  could  not  win  him,  however,  to 
any  conversation;  he  merely  answered  her  ques- 
tion and  read  on.  At  length,  quite  exhausted  by 
the  attempt  to  be  amused  with  her  own  book, 
which  she  had  only  chosen  because  it  was  the 
second  volume  of  his,  she  gave  a  great  yawn  and 

VOL.  I.  —  6 


82  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


said:  '^How  pleasant  it  is  to  spend  an  evening  in 
this  way!  I  declare,  after  all,  there  is  no  enjoy- 
ment like  reading!  How  much  sooner  one  tires  of 
anything  than  of  a  hook!  When  I  have  a  house 
of  my  own,  I  shall  he  miserable  if  I  have  not  an 
excellent  library/' 

No  one  made  any  reply.  She  then  yawned  again, 
threw  aside  her  hook,  and  cast  her  eyes  round  the 
room  in  quest  of  some  amusement;  when,  hearing 
her  brother  mentioning  a  ball  to  Miss  Bennet,  she 
turned  suddenly  towards  him  and  said,  — 

*^By  the  by,  Charles,  are  you  really  serious  in 
meditating  a  dance  at  Netherfield?  I  would  ad- 
vise you,  before  you  determine  on  it,  to  consult 
the  wishes  of  the  present  party;  I  am  much 
mistaken  if  there  are  not  some  among  us  to 
whom  a  ball  would  be  rather  a  punishment  than 
a  pleasure.'' 

'*If  you  mean  Darcy, "  cried  her  brother,  ^^he 
may  go  to  bed,  if  he  chooses,  before  it  begins ;  but 
as  for  the  ball,  it  is  quite  a  settled  thing,  and  as 
soon  as  Nicholls  has  made  white  soup  enough,  I 
shall  send  round  my  cards." 

^^I  should  like  balls  infinitely  better, "  she  re- 
plied, ^^if  they  were  carried  on  in  a  different  man- 
ner ;  but  there  is  something  insufferably  tedious  in 
the  usual  process  of  such  a  meeting.  It  would 
surely  be  much  more  rational  if  conversation  in- 
stead of  dancing  made  the  order  of  the  day.'' 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  83 


Mucli  more  rational,  my  dear  Caroline,  I  dare 
say;  but  it  would  not  be  near  so  much  like  a 
ball.'^ 

Miss  Bingley  made  no  answer,  and  soon  after- 
wards got  up  and  walked  about  the  room.  Her 
figure  was  elegant,  and  she  walked  well;  but 
Darcy,  at  whom  it  was  all  aimed,  was  still  inflexi- 
bly studious.  In  the  desperation  of  her  feelings 
she  resolved  on  one  effort  more;  and  turning  to 
Elizabeth,  said,  — 

*'Miss  Eliza  Bennet,  let  me  persuade  you  to 
follow  my  example,  and  take  a  turn  about  the 
room.  I  assure  you  it  is  very  refreshing  after 
sitting  so  long  in  one  attitude." 

Elizabeth  was  surprised,  but  agreed  to  it  imme- 
diately. Miss  Bingley  succeeded  no  less  in  the 
real  object  of  her  civility :  Mr.  Darcy  looked  up. 
He  was  as  much  awake  to  the  novelty  of  attention 
in  that  quarter  as  Elizabeth  herself  could  be,  and 
unconsciously  closed  his  book.'  He  was  directly 
invited  to  join  their  party;  but  he  declined  it,  ob- 
serving that  he  could  imagine  but  two  motives  for 
their  choosing  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room  to- 
gether, with  either  of  which  motives  his  joining 
them  would  interfere.  What  could  he  mean? 
She  was  dying  to  know  what  could  be  his  mean- 
ing, and  asked  Elizabeth  whether  she  could  at  all 
understand  him. 

''Not  at  all,"  was  her  answer;  ''but,  depend 


84 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


upon  it,  he  means  to  be  severe  on  us,  and  our 
surest  way  of  disappointing  him  will  be  to  ask 
nothing  about  it.'' 

Miss  Bingley,  however,  was  incapable  of  disap- 
pointing Mr.  Darcy  in  anything,  and  persevered, 
therefore,  in  requiring  an  explanation  of  his  two 
motives. 

^^I  have  not  the  smallest  objection  to  explain- 
ing them,''  said  he,  as  soon  as  she  allowed  him  to 
speak.  You  either  choose  this  method  of  pass- 
ing the  evening  because  you  are  in  each  other's 
confidence  and  have  secret  affairs  to  discuss,  or 
because  you  are  conscious  that  your  figures  appear 
to  the  greatest  advantage  in  walking :  if  the  first, 
I  should  be  completely  in  your  way;  and  if  the 
second,  I  can  admire  you  much  better  as  I  sit  by 
the  fire." 

*^0h,  shocking!"  cried  Miss  Bingley.  ^^I 
never  heard  anything  so  abominable.  How  shall 
we  punish  him  for  such  a  speech?" 

'^Nothing  so  easy,  if  you  have  but  the  inclina- 
tion," said  Elizabeth.  ^^We  can  all  plague  and 
punish  one  another.  Tease  him,  laugh  at  him. 
Intimate  as  you  are,  you  must  know  how  it  is  to 
be  done." 

^^But  upon  my  honor  I  do  no.t.  I  do  assure  you 
that  my  intimacy  has  not  yet  taught  me  that. 
Tease  calmness  of  temper  and  presence  of  mind! 
No,  no;  I  feel  he  may  defy  us  there.    And  as  to 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


65 


laughter,  we  will  not  expose  ourselves,  if  you 
please,  by  attempting  to  laugh  without  a  subject. 
Mr.  Darcy  may  hug  himself.'' 

*^Mr.  Darcy  is  not  to  be  laughed  at!''  cried 
Elizabeth.  ^^That  is  an  uncommon  advantage, 
and  uncommon  I  hope  it  will  continue,  for  it  would 
be  a  great  loss  to  me  to  have  many  such  acquaint- 
ance.   I  dearly  love  a  laugh." 

^^Miss  Bingley, "  said  he,  has  given  me  credit 
for  more  than  can  be.    The  wisest  and  best  of  men 

—  nay,  the  wisest  and  best  of  their  actions  —  may 
be  rendered  ridiculous  by  a  person  whose  first 
object  in  life  is  a  joke." 

Certainly, "  replied  Elizabeth,  "  there  are  such 
people,  but  I  hope  I  am  not  one  of  them.  I  hope 
I  never  ridicule  what  is  wise  or  good.  Follies 
and  nonsense,  whims  and  inconsistencies,  do  divert 
me,  I  own,  and  I  laugh  at  them  whenever  I  can. 
But  these,  I  suppose,  are  precisely  what  you  are 
without." 

Perhaps  that  is  not  possible  for  any  one.  But 
it  has  been  the  study  of  my  life  to  avoid  those 
weaknesses  which  often  expose  a  strong  under- 
standing to  ridicule." 

^^Such  as  vanity  and  pride." 

Yes,  vanity  is  a  weakness  indeed.    But  pride 

—  where  there  is  a  real  superiority  of  mind  — 
pride  will  be  always  under  good  regulation." 

Elizabeth  turned  away  to  hide  a  smile. 


86 


PRIDE  AND  PRi:jUDICE. 


Your  examination  of  Mr.  Darcy  is  over,  I  pre- 
sume/' said  Miss  Bingley;  and  pray  what  is  the 
result?'' 

I  am  perfectly  convinced  by  it  that  Mr.  Darcy 
has  no  defect.  He  owns  it  himself  without 
disguise." 

^^No,"  said  Darcy,  ^'I  have  made  no  such  pre- 
tension. I  have  faults  enough,  but  they  are  not,  I 
hope,  of  understanding.  My  temper  I  dare  not 
vouch  for.  It  is,  I  believe,  too  little  yielding; 
certainly  too  little  for  the  convenience  of  the 
world.  I  cannot  forget  the  follies  and  vices  of 
others  so  soon  as  I  ought,  nor  their  offences  against 
myself.  My  feelings  are  not  puffed  about  with 
every  attempt  to  move  them.  My  temper  would 
perhaps  be  called  resentful.  My  good  opinion 
once  lost  >s  lost  forever." 

^^That  is  a  failing,  indeed!  "  cried  Elizabeth. 

Implacable  resentment  is  a  shade  in  a  character. 
But  you  have  chosen  your  fault  well.  I  really 
cannot  laugh  at  it.    You  are  safe  from  me." 

There  is,  I  believe,  in  every  disposition  a  ten- 
dency to  some  particular  evil,  a  natural  defect, 
which  not  even  the  best  education  can  overcome." 

**And  your  defect  is  a  propensity  to  hate 
everybody." 

^^And  yours,"  he  replied,  with  a  smile,  *^is 
wilfully  to  misunderstand  them." 

*^Do  let  us  have  a  little  music,"  cried  Miss 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


87 


Biugley,  tired  of  a  conversation  in  which  she  had 
no  share.  Louisa,  you  will  not  mind  my  wak- 
ing Mr.  Hurst.'' 

Her  sister  made  not  the  smallest  objection,  and 
the  pianoforte  was  opened;  and  Darcy,  after  a  few 
moments'  recollection,  was  not  sorry  for  it.  He 
began  to  feel  the  danger  of  paj'ing  Elizabeth  too 
much  attention. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


In  consequence  of  an  agreement  between  the  sis- 
ters, Elizabetli  wrote  the  next  morning  to  her 
mother,  to  beg  that  the  carriage  might  be  sent  for 
them  in  the  course  of  the  day.  But  Mrs.  Bennet, 
who  had  calculated  on  her  daughters  remaining  at 
Netherfield  till  the  following  Tuesday,  which 
would  exactly  finish  Jane's  week,  could  not  bring 
herself  to  receive  them  with  pleasure  before.  Her 
answer,  therefore,  was  not  propitious,  at  least  not 
to  Elizabeth's  wishes,  for  she  was  impatient  to  get 
home.  Mrs.  Bennet  sent  them  word  that  they 
could  not  possibly  have  the  carriage  before  Tues- 
day; and  in  her  postscript  it  was  added,  that  if 
Mr.  Bingley  and  his  sister  pressed  them  to  stay 
longer,  she  could  spare  them  very  well.  Against 
staying  longer,  however,  Elizabeth  was  positively 
resolved,  —  nor  did  she  much  expect  it  would  be 
asked;  and  fearful,  on  the  contrary,  of  being  con- 
sidered as  intruding  themselves  needlessly  long, 
she  urged  Jane  to  borrow  Mr.  Bingley's  carriage 
immediately,  and  at  length  it  was  settled  that 
their  original  design  of  leaving  ll^etherfield  that 
morning  should  be  mentioned,  and  the  request 
made. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  89 


The  communication  excited  many  professions  of 
concern;  and  enough  was  said  of  wishing  them  to 
stay  at  least  till  the  following  day  to  work  on 
Jane;  and  till  the  morrow  their  going  was  de- 
ferred. Miss  Bingley  was  then  sorry  that  she  had 
proposed  the  delay;  for  her  jealousy  and  dislike 
of  one  sister  much  exceeded  her  affection  for  the 
other. 

The  master  of  the  house  heard  with  real  sorrow 
that  they  were  to  go  so  soon,  and  repeatedly  tried 
to  persuade  Miss  Bennet  that  it  would  not  be 
safe  for  her,  — that  she  was  not  enough  recovered; 
but  Jane  was  firm  where  she  felt  herself  to  be 
right. 

To  Mr.  Darcy  it  was  welcome  intelligence. 
Elizabeth  had  been  at  Netherfield  long  enough. 
She  attracted  him  more  than  he  liked;  and  Miss 
Bingley  was  uncivil  to  her,  and  more  teasing  than 
usual  to  himself.  He  wisely  resolved  to  be  par- 
ticularly careful  that  no  sign  of  admiration  should 
now  escape  him,  — nothing  that  could  elevate  her 
with  the  hope  of  influencing  his  felicity;  sensible 
that  if  such  an  idea  had  been  suggested,  his  be- 
havior during  the  last  day  must  have  material 
weight  in  confirming  or  crushing  it.  Steady  to 
his  purpose,  he  scarcely  spoke  ten  words  to  her 
through  the  whole  of  Saturday;  and  though  they 
were  at  one  time  left  by  themselves  for  half  an 


90  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


hour,  he  adhered  most  conscientiously  to  his  book, 
and  would  not  even  look  at  her. 

On  Sunday,  after  morning  service,  the  separa- 
tion, so  agreeable  to  almost  all,  took  place.  Miss 
Bingley's  civility  to  Elizabeth  increased  at  last 
very  rapidly,  as  well  as  her  affection  for  Jane ;  and 
when  they  parted,  after  assuring  the  latter  of  the 
pleasure  it  would  always  give  her  to  see  her  either 
at  Longbourn  or  Netherfield,  and  embracing  her 
most  tenderly,  she  even  shook  hands  with  the 
former.  Elizabeth  took  leave  of  the  whole  party 
in  the  liveliest  spirits. 

They  were  not  welcomed  home  very  cordially  by 
their  mother.  Mrs.  Bennet  wondered  at  their 
coming,  and  thought  them  very  wrong  to  give  so 
much  trouble,  and  was  sure  Jane  would  have 
caught  cold  again.  But  their  father,  though  very 
laconic  in  his  expressions  of  pleasure,  was  really 
glad  to  see  them ;  he  had  felt  their  importance  in 
the  family  circle.  The  evening  conversation, 
when  they  were  all  assembled,  had  lost  much  of 
its  animation,  and  almost  all  its  sense,  by  the 
absence  of  Jane  and  Elizabeth. 

They  found  Mary,  as  usual,  deep  in  the  study 
of  thorough  bass  and  human  nature ;  and  had  some 
new  extracts  to  admire,  and  some  new  observations 
of  threadbare  morality  to  listen  to.  Catherine 
and  Lydia  had  information  for  them  of  a  different 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


91 


sort.  Much  had  been  done  and  much  had  been 
said  in  the  regiment  since  the  preceding  Wednes- 
day; several  of  the  officers  had  dined  lately  with 
their  uncle;  a  private  had  been  flogged,  and  it 
had  actually  been  hinted  that  Colonel  Forster  was 
going  to  be  married. 


CHAPTER  XIIL 


HOPE,  my  dear/'  said  Mr.  Bennet  to  his  wife, 
as  they  were  at  breakfast  the  next  morning,  ^^that 
you  have  ordered  a  good  dinner  to-day,  because  I 
have  reason  to  expect  an  addition  to  our  family 
party.'' 

^^Who  do  you  mean,  my  dear?  I  know  of  no- 
body that  is  coming,  I  am  sure,  unless  Charlotte 
Lucas  should  happen  to  call  in;  and  I  hope  my 
dinners  are  good  enough  for  her.  I  do  not  believe 
she  often  sees  such  at  home." 

^^The  person  of  whom  I  speak  is  a  gentleman 
and  a  stranger." 

Mrs.  Bennet's  eyes  sparkled.  ^^A  gentleman 
and  a  stranger!  It  is  Mr.  Bingley,  I  am  sure. 
Why,  Jane,  you  never  dropped  a  word  of  this,  — 
you  sly  thing!  Well,  I  am  sure  I  shall  be  ex- 
tremely glad  to  see  Mr.  Bingley.  But  —  good 
Lord !  how  unlucky !  there  is  not  a  bit  of  fish  to 
be  got  to-day.  Lydia,  my  love,  ring  the  bell. 
I  must  speak  to  Hill  this  moment." 

*^It  is  not  Mr.  Bingley,"  said  her  husband; 
^^it  is  a  person  whom  I  never  saw  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  life." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


93 


This  roused  a  general  astonishment;  and  he  had 
the  pleasure  of  being  eagerly  questioned  by  his 
wife  and  five  daughters  at  once. 

After  amusing  himself  some  time  with  their 
curiosity,  he  thus  explained:  About  a  month 
ago  I  received  this  letter,  and  about  a  fortnight 
ago  I  answered  it ;  for  I  thought  it  a  case  of  some 
delicacy,  and  requiring  early  attention.  It  is 
from  my  cousin,  Mr.  Collins,  who,  when  I  am 
dead,  may  turn  you  all  out  of  this  house  as  soon 
as  he  pleases.'' 

Oh,  my  dear,''  cried  his  wife,  I  cannot  bear 
tp  hear  that  mentioned.  Pray  do  not  talk  of  that 
odious  man.  I  do  think  it  is  the  hardest  thing  in 
the  world,  that  your  estate  should  be  entailed 
away  from  your  own  children;  and  I  am  sure,  if  I 
had  been  you,  I  should  have  tried  long  ago  to  do 
something  or  other  about  it." 

Jane  and  Elizabeth  attempted  to  explain  to  her 
the  nature  of  an  entail.  They  had  often  attempted 
it  before:  but  it  was  a  subject  on  which  Mrs. 
Bennet  was  beyond  the  reach  of  reason;  and  she 
continued  to  rail  bitterly  against  the  cruelty  of 
settling  an  estate  away  from  a  family  of  five 
daughters,  in  favor  of  a  man  whom  nobody  cared 
anything  about. 

'^It  certainly  is  a  most  iniquitous  affair,"  said 
Mr.  Bennet;  ^^and  nothing  can  clear  Mr.  Collins 
from  the  guilt  of  inheriting  Longbourn.    But  if 


94  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


you  will  listen  to  his  letter,  you  may  perhaps  be 
a  little  softened  by  his  manner  of  expressing 
himself/' 

^^No,  that  I  am  sure  I  shall  not;  and  I  think  it 
was  very  impertinent  of  him  to  write  to  you  at  all, 
and  very  hypocritical.  I  hate  such  false  friends. 
Why  could  not  he  keep  on  quarrelling  with  you, 
as  his  father  did  before  him? 

"Whjy  indeed,  he  does  seem  to  have  had  some 
filial  scruples  on  that  head,  as  you  will  hear.'' 

HuNSFORD,  near  Westerham,  Kent,  15th  October. 
Dear  Sir,  —  The  disagreement  subsisting  between 
yourself  and  my  late  honored  father  always  gave  me  much 
uneasiness  ;  and  since  I  have  had  the  misfortune  to  lose 
him,  I  have  frequently  wished  to  heal  the  breach :  but 
for  some  time  I  was  kept  back  by  my  own  doubts,  fear- 
ing lest  it  might  seem  disrespectful  to  his  memory  for  me 
to  be  on  good  terms  with  any  one  with  whom  it  had  al- 
ways pleased  him  to  be  at  variance.  ["  There,  Mrs. 
Bennet !  "]  My  mind,  however,  is  now  made  up  on  the 
subject;  for,  having  received  ordination  at  Easter,  I 
have  been  so  fortunate  as  to  be  distinguished  by  the 
patronage  of  the  Eight  Honorable  Lady  Catherine  de 
Bourgh,  widow  of  Sir  Lewis  de  Bourgh,  whose  bounty 
and  beneficence  has  preferred  me  to  the  valuable  rectory 
of  this  parish,  where  it  shall  be  my  earnest  endeavor  to 
demean  myself  with  grateful  respect  towards  her  Lady- 
ship, and  be  ever  ready  to  perform  those  rites  and  cere- 
monies which  are  instituted  by  the  Church  of  England. 
As  a  clergyman,  moreover,  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  promote 
and  establish  the  blessing  of  peace  in  all  families  within 
the  reach  of  my  influence  ;  and  on  these  grounds  I  flatter 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  95 


myself  that  my  present  overtures  of  good-will  are  highly 
commendable,  and  that  the  circumstance  of  my  being 
next  in  the  entail  of  Longbourn  estate  will  be  kindly  over- 
looked on  your  side,  and  not  lead  you  to  reject  the  offered 
olive  branch.  I  cannot  be  otherwise  than  concerned  at 
being  the  means  of  injuring  your  amiable  daughters,  and 
beg  leave  to  apologize  for  it,  as  well  as  to  assure  you  of 
my  readiness  to  make  them  every  possible  amends  ;  but 
of  this  hereafter.  If  you  should  have  no  objection  to  re- 
ceive me  into  your  house,  I  propose  myself  the  satisfac- 
tion of  waiting  on  you  and  your  family,  Monday,  Novem- 
ber 18th,  by  four  o'clock,  and  shall  probably  trespass  on 
your  hospitality  till  the  Saturday  se'nnight  following, 
which  I  can  do  without  any  inconvenience,  as  Lady 
Catherine  is  far  from  objecting  to  my  occasional  absence 
on  a  Sunday,  provided  that  some  other  clergyman  is 
engaged  to  do  the  duty  of  the  day.  I  remain,  dear  sir, 
with  respectful  compliments  to  your  lady  and  daughters, 
your  well-wisher  and  friend, 

William  Collins. 

At  four  o'clock,  therefore,  we  may  expect  this 
peace-making  gentleman,"  said  Mr.  Bennet,  as  he 
folded  up  the  letter.  ''He  seems  to  be  a  most 
conscientious  and  polite  young  man,  upon  my 
word;  and  I  doubt  not  will  prove  a  valuable  ac- 
quaintance, especially  if  Lady  Catherine  should  be 
so  indulgent  as  to  let  him  come  to  us  again.'' 

*'  There  is  some  sense  in  what  he  says  about  the 
girls,  however;  and  if  he  is  disposed  to  make 
them  any  amends,  I  shall  not  be  the  person  to 
discourage  him." 

*' Though  it  is  difficult,"  said  Jane,  ^'to  guess 


96 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


in  what  way  he  can  mean  to  make  us  the  atone- 
ment he  thinks  our  due,  the  wish  is  certainly  to 
his  credit." 

Elizabeth  was  chiefly  struck  with  his  extraor- 
dinary deference  for  Lady  Catherine,  and  his  kind 
intention  of  christening,  marrying,  and  burying 
his  parishioners  whenever  it  were  required. 

^^He  must  be  an  oddity,  I  think,"  said  she. 
^'1  cannot  make  him  out.  There  is  something 
very  pompous  in  his  style.  And  what  can  he 
mean  by  apologizing  for  being  next  in  the  entail? 
We  cannot  suppose  he  would  help  it,  if  he  could. 
Can  he  be  a  sensible  man,  sir?  " 

'^No,  my  dear;  I  think  not.  I  have  great 
hopes  of  finding  him  quite  the  reverse.  There  is 
a  mixture  of  servility  and  self-importance  in  his 
letter  which  promises  well.  I  am  impatient  to 
see  him." 

''In  point  of  composition,"  said  Mary,  ''his 
letter  does  not  seem  defective.  The  idea  of  the 
olive  branch  perhaps  is  not  wholly  new,  yet  I 
think  it  is  well  expressed." 

To  Catherine  and  Lydia  neither  the  letter  nor 
its  writer  was  in  any  degree  interesting.  It  was 
next  to  impossible  that  their  cousin  should  come 
in  a  scarlet  coat,  and  it  was  now  some  weeks  since 
they  had  received  pleasure  from  the  society  of  a 
man  in  any  other  color.  As  for  their  mother,  Mr. 
Collins's  letter  had  done  away  much  of  her  ill-will, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


97 


and  she  was  preparing  to  see  him  with  a  degree 
of  composure  which  astonished  her  husband  and 
daughters. 

Mr.  Collins  was  punctual  to  his  time,  and  was 
received  with  great  politeness  by  the  whole  family. 
Mr.  Bennet  indeed  said  little ;  but  the  ladies  were 
ready  enough  to  talk,  and  Mr.  Collins  seemed 
neither  in  need  of  encouragement,  nor  inclined  to 
be  silent  himself.  He  was  a  tall,  heavy-looking 
young  man  of  five-and-twenty.  His  air  was  grave 
and  stately,  and  his  manners  were  very  formal. 
He  had  not  been  long  seated  before  he  compli- 
mented Mrs.  Bennet  on  having  so  fine  a  family  of 
daughters,  said  he  had  heard  much  of  their  beauty, 
but  that  in  this  instance  fame  had  fallen  short  of 
the  truth;  and  added  that  he  did  not  doubt  her 
seeing  them  all  in  due  time  well  disposed  of  in 
marriage.  This  gallantry  was  not  much  to  the 
taste  of  some  of  his  hearers;  but  Mrs.  Bennet, 
who  quarrelled  with  no  compliments,  answered 
most  readily,  — 

You  are  very  kind,  sir,  I  am  sure;  and  I  wish 
with  all  my  heart  it  may  prove  so;  for  else  they 
will  be  destitute  enough.  Things  are  settled  so 
oddly.'' 

*^You  allude,  perhaps,  to  the  entail  of  this 
estate/' 

^^Ah,  sir,  I  do  indeed.  It  is  a  grievous  affair 
to  my  poor  girls,  you  must  confess.    Not  that  I 

VOL.  I.  —  7 


98  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


mean  to  find  fault  with  you,  for  such  things  I 
know  are  all  chance  in  this  world.  There  is  no 
knowing  how  estates  will  go  when  once  they  come 
to  be  entailed.'' 

^'1  am  very  sensible,  madam,  of  the  hardship 
to  my  fair  cousins,  and  could  say  much  on  the 
subject,  but  that  I  am  cautious  of  appearing  for- 
ward and  precipitate.  But  I  can  assure  the  young 
ladies  that  I  come  prepared  to  admire  them.  At 
present  I  will  not  say  more ;  but  j^erhaps,  when  we 
are  better  acquainted  — ' ' 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  summons  to  dinner; 
and  the  girls  smiled  on  each  other.  They  were 
not  the  only  objects  of  Mr.  Collinses  admiration. 
The  hall,  the  dining-room,  and  all  its  furniture 
were  examined  and  praised;  and  his  commendation 
of  everything  would  have  touched  Mrs.  Bennet's 
heart,  but  for  the  mortifying  supposition  of  his 
viewing  it  all  as  his  own  future  property.  The 
dinner  too,  in  its  turn,  was  highly  admired;  and 
he  begged  to  know  to  which  of  his  fair  cousins  the 
excellence  of  its  cookery  was  owing.  But  here  he 
was  set  right  by  Mrs.  Bennet,  who  assured  him, 
with  some  asperity,  that  they  were  very  well  able 
to  keep  a  good  cook,  and  that  her  daughters  had 
nothing  to  do  in  the  kitchen.  He  begged  pardon 
for  having  displeased  her.  In  a  softened  tone  she 
declared  herself  not  at  all  offended;  but  he  con- 
tinued to  apologize  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


During  dinner  Mr.  Bennet  scarcely  spoke  at  all; 
but  when  the  servants  were  withdrawn,  he  thought 
it  time  to  have  some  conversation  with  his  guest, 
and  therefore  started  a  subject  in  which  he  ex- 
pected him  to  shine,  by  observing  that  he  seemed 
very  fortunate  in  his  patroness.  Lady  Catherine 
de  Bourgh's  attention  to  his  wishes  and  consider- 
ation for  his  comfort  appeared  very  remarkable. 
Mr.  Bennet  could  not  have  chosen  better.  Mr. 
Collins  was  eloquent  in  her  praise.  The  subject 
elevated  him  to  more  than  usual  solemnity  of 
manner;  and  with  a  most  important  aspect  he  pro- 
tested that  ^^he  had  never  in  his  life  witnessed 
such  behavior  in  a  person  of  rank,  —  such  affability 
and  condescension,  as  he  had  himself  experienced 
from  Lady  Catherine.  She  had  been  graciously 
pleased  to  approve  of  both  the  discourses  which  he 
had  already  had  the  honor  of  preaching  before  her. 
She  had  also  asked  him  twice  to  dine  at  Kosings, 
and  had  sent  for  him  only  the  Saturday  before,  to 
make  up  her  pool  of  quadrille  in  the  evening. 
Lady  Catherine  was  reckoned  proud  by  many 
people,  he  knew,  but  he  had  never  seen  anything 


100  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


but  affability  in  her.  She  bad  always  spoken  to 
him  as  sbe  would  to  any  other  gentleman;  she 
made  not  the  smallest  objection  to  his  joining  in 
the  society  of  the  neighborhood,  nor  to  his  leaving 
his  parish  occasionally  for  a  week  or  two  to  visit 
his  relations.  She  had  even  condescended  to 
advise  him  to  marry  as  soon  as  he  could,  provided 
he  chose  with  discretion;  and  had  once  paid  him 
a  visit  in  his  humble  parsonage,  where  she  had 
perfectly  approved  all  the  alterations  he  had  been 
making,  and  had  even  vouchsafed  to  suggest  some 
herself,  — some  shelves  in  the  closets  upstairs. 

^^That  is  all  very  proper  and  civil,  I  am  sure,'' 
said  Mrs.  Bennet,  ^'and  I  dare  say  she  is  a  very 
agreeable  woman.  It  is  a  pity  that  great  ladies  in 
general  are  not  more  like  her.  Does  she  live  near 
you,  sir? '' 

^'  The  garden  in  which  stands  my  humble  abode 
is  separated  only  by  a  lane  from  Rosings  Park,  her 
Ladyship's  residence." 

^'I  think  you  said  she  was  a  widow,  sir?  Has 
she  any  family?  " 

^^She  has  one  only  daughter,  the  heiress  of 
Bosings,  and  of  very  extensive  property.'' 

^^Ah,"  cried  Mrs.  Bennet,  shaking  her  head, 
''then  she  is  better  off  than  many  girls.  And  what 
sort  of  young  lady  is  she?    Is  she  handsome?  " 

''  She  is  a  most  charming  young  lady,  indeed. 
Lady  Catherine  herself  says  that,  in  point  of  true 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


101 


beauty,  Miss  de  Bourgh  is  far  superior  to  the 
handsomest  of  her  sex;  because  there  is  that  in 
her  features  which  marks  the  young  woman  of 
distinguished  birth.  She  is  unfortunately  of  a 
sickly  constitution,  which  has  prevented  her  mak- 
ing that  progress  in  many  accomplishments  which 
she  could  not  otherwise  have  failed  of,  as  I  am 
informed  by  the  lady  who  superintended  her  educa- 
tion, and  who  still  resides  with  them.  But  she  is 
perfectly  amiable,  and  often  condescends  to  drive 
by  my  humble  abode  in  her  little  phaeton  and 
ponies.^' 

''Has  she  been  presented?  I  do  not  remember 
her  name  among  the  ladies  at  court.'' 

''Her  indifferent  state  of  health  unhappily 
prevents  her  being  in  town;  and  by  that  means, 
as  I  told  Lady  Catherine  myself  one  day,  has  de- 
prived the  British  Court  of  its  brightest  orna- 
ment. Her  Ladyship  seemed  pleased  with  the 
idea;  and  you  may  imagine  that  I  am  happy  on 
every  occasion  to  offer  those  little  delicate  compli- 
ments which  are  always  acceptable  to  ladies.  I 
have  more  than  once  observed  to  Lady  Catherine, 
that  her  charming  daughter  seemed  born  to  be  a 
duchess ;  and  that  the  most  elevated  rank,  instead 
of  giving  her  consequence,  would  be  adorned  by 
her.  These  are  the  kind  of  little  things  which 
please  her  Ladyship,  and  it  is  a  sort  of  attention 


102 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


which  I  conceive  myself  peculiarly  bound  to 
pay/^ 

^^You  judge  very  properly/'  said  Mr.  Bennet; 
*^and  it  is  happy  for  you  that  you  possess  the 
talent  of  flattering  with  delicacy.  May  I  ask 
whether  these  pleasing  attentions  proceed  from 
the  impulse  of  the  moment,  or  are  the  result  of 
previous  study? 

They  arise  chiefly  from  what  is  passing  at  the 
time ;  and  though  I  sometimes  amuse  myself  with 
suggesting  and  arranging  such  little  elegant  com- 
pliments as  may  be  adapted  to  ordinary  occasions, 
I  always  wish  to  give  them  as  unstudied  an  air  as 
possible. 

Mr.  Bennetts  expectations  were  fully  answered. 
His  cousin  was  as  absurd  as  he  had  hoped;  and  he 
listened  to  him  with  the  keenest  enjoyment,  main- 
taining at  the  same  time  the  most  resolute  com- 
posure of  countenance,  and,  except  in  an  occasional 
glance  at  Elizabeth,  requiring  no  partner  in  his 
pleasure. 

By  tea-time,  however,  the  dose  had  been  enough, 
and  Mr.  Bennet  was  glad  to  take  his  guest  into 
the  drawing-room  again,  and  when  tea  was  over, 
glad  to  invite  him  to  read  aloud  to  the  ladies.  Mr. 
Collins  readily  assented,  and  a  book  was  produced; 
but  on  beholding  it  (for  everything  announced  it 
to  be  from  a  circulating  library)  he  started  back, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  103 


and  begging  pardon,  protested  that  he  never  read 
novels.  Kitty  stared  at  him,  and  Lydia  exclaimed. 
Other  books  were  produced,  and  after  some  delib- 
eration he  chose  Fordyce's  Sermons.  Lydia  gaped 
as  he  opened  the  volume;  and  before  he  had  with 
very  monotonous  solemnity  read  three  pages,  she 
interrupted  him  with,  — 

^'Do  you  know,  mamma,  that  my  uncle  Philips 
talks  of  turning  away  E-ichard?  and  if  he  does, 
Colonel  Forster  will  hire  him.  My  aunt  told  me 
so  herself  on  Saturday.  I  shall  walk  to  Meryton 
to-morrow  to  hear  more  about  it,  and  to  ask  when 
Mr.  Denny  comes  back  from  town.'' 

Lydia  was  bid  by  her  two  eldest  sisters  to  hold 
her  tongue;  but  Mr.  Collins,  much  offended,  laid 
aside  his  book,  and  said,  — 

^'I  have  often  observed  how  little  young  ladies 
are  interested  by  books  of  a  serious  stamp,  though 
written  solely  for  their  benefit.  It  amazes  me,  I 
confess ;  for  certainly  there  can  be  nothing  so  ad- 
vantageous to  them  as  instruction.  But  I  will  no 
longer  importune  my  young  cousin.'' 

Then  turning  to  Mr.  Bennet,  he  offered  himself 
as  his  antagonist  at  backgammon.  Mr.  Bennet 
accepted  the  challenge,  observing  that  he  acted 
very  wisely  in  leaving  the  girls  to  their  own 
trifling  amusements.  Mrs.  Bennet  and  her  daugh- 
ters apologized  most  civilly  for  Lj^dia's  interrup* 


104  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


tion,  and  promised  tliat  it  should  not  occur  again, 
if  he  would  resume  his  book;  hut  Mr,  Collins, 
after  assuring  them  that  he  bore  his  young  cousin 
no  ill-will,  and  should  never  resent  her  behavior 
as  any  affront,  seated  himself  at  another  table  with 
Mr.  Bennet,  and  prepared  for  backgammon. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


Mr.  Collins  was  not  a  sensible  man,  and  the  de- 
ficiency of  nature  liad  been  but  little  assisted  by 
education  or  society,  the  greatest  part  of  his  life 
having  been  spent  under  the  guidance  of  an  illiter- 
ate and  miserly  father;  and  though  he  belonged 
to  one  of  the  universities,  he  had  merely  kept  the 
necessary  terms  without  forming  at  it  any  useful 
acquaintance.  The  subjection  in  which  his  father 
had  brought  him  up  had  given  him  originally 
great  humility  of  manner;  but  it  was  now  a  good 
deal  counteracted  by  the  self-conceit  of  a  weak 
head,  living  in  retirement,  and  the  consequential 
feelings  of  early  and  unexpected  prosperity.  A 
fortunate  chance  had  recommended  him  to  Lady 
Catherine  de  Bourgh  when  the  living  of  Hunsford 
was  vacant;  and  the  respect  which  he  felt  for  her 
high  rank,  and  his  veneration  for  her  as  his  pa- 
troness, mingling  with  a  very  good  opinion  of 
himself,  of  his  authority  as  a  clergyman,  and  his 
right  as  a  rector,  made  him  altogether  a  mixture 
of  pride  and  obsequiousness,  self-importance  and 
humility. 

Having  now  a  good  house  and  a  very  sufficient 
income,  he  intended  to  marry;  and  in  seeking  a 


106  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


reconciliation  with  the  Longbourn  family  he  had 
a  wife  in  view,  as  he  meant  to  choose  one  of  the 
daughters,  if  he  found  them  as  handsome  and 
amiable  as  they  were  represented  by  common  re- 
port. This  was  his  plan  of  amends  —  of  atone- 
ment—  for  inheriting  their  father's  estate;  and 
he  thought  it  an  excellent  one,  full  of  eligibility 
and  suitableness,  and  excessively  generous  and  dis- 
interested on  his  own  part. 

His  plan  did  not  vary  on  seeing  them.  Miss 
Bennet's  lovely  face  confirmed  his  views,  and  es- 
tablished all  his  strictest  notions  of  what  was  due 
to  seniority;  and  for  the  first  evening  she  was  his 
settled  choice.  The  next  morning,  however,  made 
an  alteration;  for  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  tete-a-tete 
with  Mrs.  Bennet  before  breakfast,  a  conversation 
beginning  with  his  parsonage-house,  and  leading 
naturally  to  the  avowal  of  his  hopes  that  a  mis- 
tress for  it  might  be  found  at  Longbourn,  pro- 
duced from  her,  amid  very  complaisant  smiles  and 
general  encouragement,  a  caution  against  the  very 
Jane  he  had  fixed  on.  ^'As  to  her  younger 
daughters,  she  could  not  take  upon  her  to  say,  — 
she  could  not  positively  answer,  —  but  she  did  not 
know  of  any  prepossession;  her  eldest  daughter 
she  must  just  mention  —  she  felt  it  incumbent 
on  her  to  hint  —  was  likely  to  be  very  soon 
engaged." 

Mr.  Collins  had  only  to  change  from  Jan3  to 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  107 


Elizabeth ;  and  it  was  soon  done,  —  done  while 
Mrs.  Bennet  was  stirring  the  fire.  Elizabeth, 
equally  next  to  Jane  in  birth  and  beauty,  sue 
ceeded  her  of  course. 

Mrs.  Bennet  treasured  up  the  hint,  and  trusted 
that  she  might  soon  have  two  daughters  married; 
and  the  man  whom  she  could  not  bear  to  speak  of 
the  day  before  was  now  high  in  her  good  graces. 

Lydia's  intention  of  walking  to  Meryton  was  not 
forgotten.  Every  sister  except  Mary  agreed  to  go 
with  her;  and  Mr.  Collins  was  to  attend  them,  at 
the  request  of  Mr.  Bennet,  who  was  most  anxious 
to  get  rid  of  him  and  have  his  library  to  himself; 
for  thither  Mr.  Collins  had  followed  him  after 
breakfast,  and  there  he  would  continue,  nominally 
engaged  with  one  of  the  largest  folios  in  the  col- 
lection, but  really  talking  to  Mr.  Bennet,  with 
little  cessation,  of  his  house  and  garden  at  Huns- 
ford.  Such  doings  discomposed  Mr.  Bennet  ex- 
ceedingly. In  his  library  he  had  been  always 
sure  of  leisure  and  tranquillity;  and  though  pre- 
pared, as  he  told  Elizabeth,  to  meet  with  folly 
and  conceit  in  every  other  room  in  the  house,  he 
was  used  to  be  free  from  them  there :  his  civility, 
therefore,  was  most  prompt  in  inviting  Mr.  Collins 
to  join  his  daughters  in  their  walk;  and  Mr.  Col- 
lins, being  in  fact  much  better  fitted  for  a  walker 
than  a  reader,  was  extremely  well  pleased  to  close 
his  large  book  and  go. 


108  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


In  pompous  nothings  on  his  side,  and  civil  as- 
sents on  that  of  his  cousins,  their  time  passed  till 
they  entered  Meryton.  The  attention  of  the 
younger  ones  was  then  no  longer  to  be  gained  b3'- 
him.  Their  eyes  were  immediately  wandering  up 
in  the  street  in  quest  of  the  officers ;  and  nothing 
less  than  a  very  smart  bonnet  indeed,  or  a  really 
new  muslin  in  a  shop  window  could  recall  them. 

But  the  attention  of  every  lady  was  soon  caught 
by  a  young  man,  whom  they  had  never  seen  before, 
of  most  gentlemanlike  appearance,  walking  with 
an  officer  on  the  other  side  of  the  way.  The  officer 
was  the  very  Mr.  Denny  concerning  whose  return 
from  London  Lydia  came  to  inquire ;  and  he  bowed 
as  they  passed.  All  were  struck  with  the  stranger's 
air,  all  wondered  who  he  could  be ;  and  Kitty  and 
Lydia,  determined  if  possible  to  find  out,  led  the 
way  across  the  street,  under  pretence  of  wanting 
something  in  an  opposite  shop,  and  fortunately 
had  just  gained  the  pavement,  when  the  two  gen- 
tlemen, turning  back,  had  reached  the  same  spot. 
Mr.  Denny  addressed  them  directly,  and  entreated 
permission  to  introduce  his  friend,  Mr.  Wickham, 
who  had  returned  with  him  the  day  before  from 
town,  and,  he  was  happy  to  say,  had  accepted  a 
commission  in  their  corps.  This  was  exactly  as 
it  should  be ;  for  the  young  man  wanted  only  regi- 
mentals to  make  him  completely  charming.  His 
appearance  was  greatly  in  his  favor:  he  had  all 


I'RIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  109 


the  best  parts  of  beauty,  a  fine  countenance,  a  good 
figure,  and  very  pleasing  address.  The  introduc- 
tion was  followed  up  on  his  side  by  a  happy  readi- 
ness of  conversation,  —  a  readiness  at  the  same 
time  perfectly  correct  and  unassuming;  and  the 
whole  party  were  still  standing  and  talking  to- 
gether very  agreeably,  when  the  sound  of  horses 
drew  their  notice,  and  Darcy  and  Bingley  were 
seen  riding  down  the  street.  On  distinguishing 
the  ladies  of  the  group  the  two  gentlemen  came 
directly  towards  them,  and  began  the  usual  civili- 
ties. Bingley  was  the  principal  spokesman,  and 
Miss  Bennet  the  principal  object.  He  was  then, 
he  said,  on  his  way  to  Longbourn  on  purpose  to 
inquire  after  her.  Mr.  Darcy  corroborated  it  with 
a  bow,  and  was  beginning  to  determine  not  to  fix 
his  eyes  on  Elizabeth,  when  they  were  suddenly 
arrested  by  the  sight  of  the  stranger;  and  Eliza- 
beth, happening  to  see  the  countenance  of  both  as 
they  looked  at  each  other,  was  all  astonishment  at 
the  effect  of  the  meeting.  Both  changed  color;  one 
looked  white,  the  other  red.  Mr.  Wickham,  after  a 
few  moments,  touched  his  hat,  — a  salutation  which 
Mr.  Darcy  just  deigned  to  return.  What  could  be 
the  meaning  of  it?  It  was  impossible  to  imagine; 
it  was  impossible  not  to  long  to  know. 

In  another  minute  Mr.  Bingley,  but  without 
seeming  to  have  noticed  what  passed,  took  leave 
and  rode  on  with  his  friend. 


110  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Mr.  Denny  and  Mr.  Wickham  walked  with  the 
young  ladies  to  the  door  of  Mr.  Philips's  house, 
and  then  made  their  hows,  in  spite  of  Miss 
Lydia's  pressing  entreaties  that  they  would  come 
in,  and  even  in  spite  of  Mrs.  Philips's  throwing 
up  the  parlor  window,  and  loudly  seconding  the 
invitation. 

Mrs.  Philips  was  always  glad  to  see  her  nieces; 
and  the  two  eldest,  from  their  recent  absence,  were 
particularly  welcome;  and  she  was  eagerly  ex- 
pressing her  surprise  at  their  sudden  return  home, 
which,  as  their  own  carriage  had  not  fetched  them, 
she  should  have  known  nothing  about,  if  she  had 
not  happened  to  see  Mr.  Jones's  shop-boy  in  the 
street,  who  had  told  her  that  they  were  not  to  send 
any  more  draughts  to  Netherfield,  because  the  Miss 
Bennets  were  come  away,  when  her  civility  was 
claimed  towards  Mr.  Collins  by  Jane's  introduc- 
tion of  him.  She  received  him  with  her  very  best 
politeness,  which  he  returned  with  as  much  more, 
apologizing  for  his  intrusion  without  any  previous 
acquaintance  with  her,  which  he  could  not  help 
flattering  himself,  however,  might  be  justified  by 
his  relationship  to  the  young  ladies  who  intro- 
duced him  to  her  notice.  Mrs.  Philips  was  quite 
awed  by  such  an  excess  of  good  breeding;  but  her 
contemplation  of  one  stranger  was  soon  put  an  end 
to  by  exclamations  and  inquiries  about  the  other, 
of  whom,  however,  she  could  only  tell  her  nieces 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Ill 


what  they  already  knew,  that  Mr.  Denny  had 
brought  him  from  London,  and  that  he  was  to 

have  a  lieutenant's  commission  in  the  shire. 

She  had  been  watching  him  the  last  hour,  she  said, 
as  he  walked  up  and  down  the  street,  and  had  Mr. 
Wickham  appeared,  Kitty  and  Lydia  would  cer- 
tainly have  continued  the  occupation;  but  un- 
luckily no  one  passed  the  windows  now  except 
a  few  of  the  officers,  who,  in  comparison  with  the 
stranger,  were  become  stupid,  disagreeable  fel- 
lows.'' Some  of  them  were  to  dine  with  the 
Philipses  the  next  day,  and  their  aunt  promised 
to  make  her  husband  call  on  Mr.  Wickham,  and 
give  him  an  invitation  also,  if  the  family  from 
Longbourn  would  come  in  the  eveniug.  This  was 
agreed  to;  and  Mrs.  Philips  protested  that  they 
would  have  a  nice  comfortable  noisy  game  of  lot- 
tery tickets,  and  a  little  bit  of  hot  supper  after- 
wards. The  prospect  of  such  delights  was  very 
cheering,  and  they  parted  in  mutual  good  spirits. 
Mr.  Collins  repeated  his  apologies  in  quitting  the 
room,  and  was  assured,  with  unwearying  civility, 
that  they  were  perfectly  needless. 

As  they  walked  home,  Elizabeth  related  to  Jane 
what  she  had  seen  pass  between  the  two  gentle- 
men; but  though  Jane  would  have  defended  either 
or  both,  had  they  appeared  to  be  wrong,  she  could 
no  more  explain  such  behavior  than  her  sister. 

M**-  Collins  on  his  return  highly  gratified  Mrs. 


112  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Eennet  by  admiring  Mrs.  Philips's  manners  and 
politeness.  He  protested  that,  except  Lady  Cath- 
erine and  her  daughter,  he  had  never  seen  a  more 
elegant  woman  j  for  she  had  not  only  received  him 
with  the  utmost  civility,  but  had  even  pointedly 
included  him  in  her  invitation  for  the  next  even- 
ing, although  utterly  unknown  to  her  before. 
Something,  he  supposed,  might  be  attributed  to 
his  connection  with  them,  but  yet  he  had  never 
met  with  so  much  attention  in  the  whole  course  of 
his  life. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


As  no  objection  was  made  to  the  young  people's 
engagement  with  their  aunt,  and  all  Mr.  Collins's 
scruples  of  leaving  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bennet  for  a 
single  evening  during  his  visit  were  most  steadily 
resisted,  the  coach  conveyed  him  and  his  five 
cousins  at  a  suitable  hour  to  Meryton;  and  the 
girls  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing,  as  they  entered 
the  drawing-room,  that  Mr.  Wickham  had  accepted 
their  uncle's  invitation,  and  was  then  in  the 
house. 

When  this  information  was  given,  and  they  had 
all  taken  their  seats,  Mr.  Collins  was  at  leisure  to 
look  around  him  and  admire ;  and  he  was  so  much 
struck  with  the  size  and  furniture  of  the  apart- 
ment, that  he  declared  he  might  almost  have  sup- 
posed himself  in  the  small  summer  breakfast-parlor 
at  Kosings,  —  a  comparison  that  did  not  at  first  con- 
vey much  gratification:  but  when  Mrs.  Philips 
understood  from  him  what  Kosings  was,  and  who 
was  its  proprietor;  when  she  had  listened  to  the 
description  of  only  one  of  Lady  Catherine's  draw- 
ing-rooms, and  found  that  the  chimney-piece  alone 
had  cost  eight  hundred  pounds,  —  she  felt  all  the 

VOL.  I.  —  8 


114  PRIDE  AND  PHEJUDICE. 


force  of  tlie  compliment,  and  would  hardly  have 
resented  a  comparison  with  the  housekeeper's 
room. 

In  describing  to  her  all  the  grandeur  of  Lady 
Catherine  and  her  mansion,  with  occasional  digres- 
sions in  praise  of  his  own  humble  abode,  and  the 
improvements  it  was  receiving,  he  was  happily 
employed  until  the  gentlemen  joined  them;  and 
he  found  in  Mrs.  Philips  a  very  attentive  listener, 
whose  opinion  of  his  consequence  increased  with 
what  she  heard,  and  who  was  resolving  to  retail  it 
all  among  her  neighbors  as  soon  as  she  could.  To 
the  girls,  who  could  not  listen  to  their  cousin,  and 
who  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  wish  for  an  instru- 
ment, and  examine  their  own  indifferent  imita- 
tions of  china  on  the  mantelpiece,  the  interval  of 
waiting  appeared  very  long.  It  was  over  at  last, 
however.  The  gentlemen  did  approach;  and  when 
Mr.  Wiclvham  walked  into  the  room,  Elizabeth 
felt  that  she  had  neither  been  seeing  him  before, 
nor  thinking  of  him  since,  with  the  smallest  de- 
gree of  unreasonable  admiration.    The  officers  of 

the   shire  were  in  general  a  very  creditable, 

gentlemanlike  set,  and  the  best  of  them  were  of 
the  present  party;  but  Mr.  Wickham  was  as  far 
beyond  them  all  in  person,  countenance,  air,  and 
walk,  as  they  were  superior  to  the  broad-faced 
stuffy  uncle  Philips,  breathing  port  wine,  who 
followed  them  into  the  room. 


PKIDE  AND  PREeTUDICE.  115 


Mr.  Wickham  was  the  happy  man  towards  whom 
almost  every  female  eye  was  turned,  and  Elizabeth 
was  the  happy  woman  by  whom  he  finally  seated 
himself;  and  the  agreeable  manner  in  which  he 
immediately  fell  in  conversation,  though  it  was 
only  on  its  being  a  wet  night  and  on  the  probabil- 
ity of  a  rainy  season,  made  her  feel  that  the  com- 
monest, dullest,  most  threadbare  topic  might  be 
rendered  interesting  by  the  skill  of  the  speaker. 

With  such  rivals  for  the  notice  of  the  fair  as 
Mr.  Wickham  and  the  officers,  Mr.  Collins  seemed 
to  sink  into  insignificance;  to  the  young  ladies  he 
certainly  was  nothing;  but  he  had  still  at  inter- 
vals a  kind  listener  in  Mrs.  Philips,  and  was  by 
her  watchfulness  most  abundantly  supplied  with 
coffee  and  muffin. 

When  the  card-tables  were  placed,  he  had  an 
opportunity  of  obliging  her,  in  return,  by  sitting 
down  to  whist. 

know  little  of  the  game  at  present,''  said 
he,  "but  I  shall  be  glad  to  improve  myself;  for  in 
my  situation  of  life  — ''  Mrs.  Philips  was  very 
thankful  for  his  compliance,  but  could  not  wait  for 
his  reason. 

Mr.  Wickham  did  not  play  at  whist,  and  with 
ready  delight  was  he  received  at  the  other  table 
between  Elizabeth  and  Lydia.  At  first  there 
seemed  danger  of  Lydia's  engrossing  him  entirely, 
for  she  was  a  most  determined  talker;  but  being 


116  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


likewise  extremely  fond  of  lottery  tickets,  she  soon 
grew  too  much  interested  in  the  game,  too  eager 
in  making  bets  and  exclaiming  after  prizes,  to 
have  attention  for  any  one  in  particular.  Allow- 
ing for  the  common  demands  of  the  game,  Mr. 
Wickham  was  therefore  at  leisure  to  talk  to  Eliza- 
beth; and  she  was  very  willing  to  hear  him,  though 
what  she  chiefly  wished  to  hear  she  could  not  hope 
to  be  told,  —  the  history  of  his  acquaintance  with 
Mr.  Dsivcy.  She  dared  not  even  mention  that 
gentleman.  Her  curiosity,  however,  was  unex- 
pectedly relieved.  Mr.  Wickham  began  the  sub- 
ject himself.  He  inquired  how  far  Netherfield 
was  from  Meryton;  and  after  receiving  her  an- 
swer, asked  in  a  hesitating  manner  how  long  Mr. 
Darcy  had  been  staying  there. 

About  a  month,"  said  Elizabeth;  and  then, 
unwilling  to  let  the  subject  drop,  added,  '^He  is 
a  man  of  very  large  property  in  Derbyshire,  I 
understand. 

Yes,"  replied  Wickham;  ^^his  estate  there  is 
a  noble  one.  A  clear  ten  thousand  per  annum. 
You  could  not  have  met  with  a  person  more  capa- 
ble of  giving  you  certain  information  on  that  head 
than  myself,  —  for  I  have  been  connected  with  his 
family,  in  a  particular  manner,  from  my  infancy." 

Elizabeth  could  not  but  look  surprised. 

^^You  may  well  be  surprised.  Miss  Bennet,  at 
such  an  assertion,  after  seeing,  as  you  probably 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


117 


might,  the  very  cold  manner  of  our  meeting 
yesterday.  Are  you  much  acquainted  with  Mr. 
Darcy?'' 

^*As  much  as  I  ever  wish  to  be/'  cried  Eliza- 
beth, warmly.  ^^I  have  spent  four  days  in  the 
same  house  with  him,  and  I  think  him  very 
disagreeable.'' 

^^I  have  no  right  to  give  my  opinion,"  said 
Wickham,  *'as  to  his  being  agreeable  or  otherwise. 
I  am  not  qualified  to  form  one.  I  have  known 
him  too  long  and  too  well  to  be  a  fair  judge.  It 
is  impossible  for  me  to  be  impartial.  But  I  be- 
lieve your  opinion  of  him  would  in  general  aston- 
ish —  and,  perhaps,  you  would  not  express  it  quite 
so  strongly  anywhere  else.  Here  you  are  in  your 
own  family." 

**Upon  my  word  I  say  no  more  here  than  I 
might  say  in  any  house  in  the  neighborhood, 
except  Netherfield.  He  is  not  at  all  liked  in 
Hertfordshire.  Everybody  is  disgusted  with  his 
pride.  You  will  not  find  him  more  favorably 
spoken  of  by  any  one." 

cannot  pretend  to  be  sorry,"  said  Wickham, 
after  a  short  interruption,  ^^that  he  or  that  any 
man  should  not  be  estimated  beyond  their  deserts; 
but  with  him  I  believe  it  does  not  often  happen. 
The  world  is  blinded  by  his  fortune  and  conse- 
quence, or  frightened  by  his  high  and  imposing 
manners,  and  sees  him  only  as  he  chooses  to  b© 
seen." 


118  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


I  should  take  him,  even  on  my  slight  acquaint- 
ance, to  be  an  ill-tempered  man.''  Wickham  only 
shook  his  head. 

wonder,''  said  he,  at  the  next  opportunity 
of  speaking,  whether  he  is  likely  to  be  in  this 
country  much  longer." 

^^I  do  not  at  all  know;  but  I  heard  nothing  of 
his  going  away  when  I  was  at  Netherfield.  I 

hope  your  plans  in  favor  of  the  shire  will 

not  be  affected  by  his  being  in  the  neighbor- 
hood." 

"  Oh,  no,  —  it  is  not  for  me  to  be  driven  away  by 
Mr.  Darcy.  If  he  wishes  to  avoid  seeing  me,  he 
must  go.  We  are  not  on  friendly  terms,  and  it 
always  gives  me  pain  to  meet  him ;  but  I  have  no 
reason  for  avoiding  him  but  what  I  might  pro- 
claim to  all  the  world,  —  a  sense  of  very  great  ill 
usage,  and  most  painful  regrets  at  his  being  what 
he  is.  His  father.  Miss  Bennet,  the  late  Mr. 
Darcy,  was  one  of  the  best  men  that  ever  breathed, 
and  the  truest  friend  I  ever  had;  and  I  can  never 
be  in  company  with  this  Mr.  Darcy  without  being 
grieved  to  the  soul  by  a  thousand  tender  recollec- 
tions. His  behavior  to  myself  has  been  scanda- 
lous; but  I  verily  believe  I  could  forgive  him 
anything  and  everything,  rather  than  his  disap- 
pointing the  hopes  and  disgracing  the  memory 
of  his  father." 

Elizabeth  found  the  interest  of  the  subject  in- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


119 


crease,  and  listened  with  all  her  heart;  but  the 
delicacy  of  it  prevented  further  inquiry. 

Mr.  Wickham  began  to  speak  on  more  general 
topics, — Meryton,  the  neighborhood,  the  society, 
—  appearing  highly  pleased  with  all  that  he  had 
yet  seen,  and  speaking  of  the  latter,  especially, 
with  gentle  but  very  intelligible  gallantry. 

^^It  was  the  prospect  of  constant  society,  and 
good  society,"  he  added,      which  was  my  chief 

inducement  to  enter  the   shire.    I  know  it 

to  be  a  most  respectable,  agreeable  corps ;  and  my 
friend  Denny  tempted  me  further  by  his  account 
of  their  present  quarters,  and  the  very  great  atten- 
tions and  excellent  acquaintance  Meryton  had  pro- 
cured them.  Society,  I  own,  is  necessary  to  me. 
I  have  been  a  disappointed  man,  and  my  spirits 
will  not  bear  solitude.  I  must  have  employment 
and  society.  A  military  life  is  not  what  I  was 
intended  for,  but  circumstances  have  now  made  it 
eligible.  The  church  ought  to  have  been  my  pro- 
fession, —  I  was  brought  up  for  the  church ;  and  I 
should  at  this  time  have  been  in  possession  of  a 
most  valuable  living,  had  it  pleased  the  gentle- 
man we  were  speaking  of  just  now.'* 

^'Indeed!" 

"Yes,  — the  late  Mr.  Darcy  bequeathed  me  the 
next  presentation  of  the  best  living  in  his  gift. 
He  was  my  godfather,  and  excessively  attached  to 
me.    I  cannot  do  justice  to  his  kindness.  He 


120 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


meant  to  provide  for  me  amply,  and  thought  lie 
had  done  it;  but  when  the  living  fell,  it  was  given 
elsewhere. 

Good  heavens!"  cried  Elizabeth;  ^^but  how 
could  that  be?  How  could  his  will  be  disre- 
garded?   Why  did  not  you  seek  legal  redress?  " 

There  was  just  such  an  informality  in  the 
terms  of  the  bequest  as  to  give  me  no  hope  from 
law.  A  man  of  honor  could  not  have  doubted  the 
intention;  but  Mr.  Darcy  chose  to  doubt  it,  or  to 
treat  it  as  a  merely  conditional  recommendation, 
and  to  assert  that  I  had  forfeited  all  claim  to  it 
by  extravagance,  imprudence,  in  short,  anything 
or  nothing.  Certain  it  is  that  the  living  became 
vacant  two  years  ago,  exactly  as  I  was  of  an  age 
to  hold  it,  and  that  it  was  given  to  another  man; 
and  no  less  certain  is  it,  that  I  cannot  accuse  my- 
self of  having  really  done  anything  to  deserve  to 
lose  it.  I  have  a  warm,  unguarded  temper,  and  I 
may  perhaps  have  sometimes  spoken  my  opinion  of 
him  and  to  him  too  freely.  I  can  recall  nothing 
worse.  But  the  fact  is,  that  we  are  very  different 
sort  of  men,  and  that  he  hates  me.'' 

'*This  is  quite  shocking!  He  deserves  to  be 
publicly  disgraced." 

*  ^  Some  time  or  other  he  will  be ;  but  it  shall 
not  be  by  me.  Till  I  can  forget  his  father,  I  can 
never  defy  or  expose  him." 

Elizabeth  honored  him  for  such  feelings,  and 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  121 


thought  him  handsomer  than  ever  as  he  expressed 
them. 

^'But  what/'  said  she,  after  a  pause,  '^can 
have  been  his  motive?  what  can  have  induced  him 
to  behave  so  cruelly?  " 

A  thorough,  determined  dislike  of  me,  — a  dis- 
like which  I  cannot  but  attribute  in  some  measure 
to  jealousy.  Had  the  late  Mr.  Darcy  liked  me 
less,  his  son  might  have  borne  with  me  better; 
but  his  father's  uncommon  attachment  to  me  irri- 
tated him,  I  believe,  very  early  in  life.  He  had 
not  a  temper  to  bear  the  sort  of  competition  in 
which  we  stood,  —  the  sort  of  preference  which 
was  often  given  me." 

had  not  thought  Mr.  Darcy  so  bad  as  this,  — 
though  I  have  never  liked  him,  I  had  not  thought 
so  very  ill  of  him,  —  I  had  supposed  him  to  be 
despising  his  fellow-creatures  in  general,  but  did 
not  suspect  him  of  descending  to  such  malicious 
revenge,  such  injustice,  such  inhumanity  as 
this!" 

After  a  few  minutes'  reflection,  however,  she 
continued:  '^I  do  remember  his  boasting  one  day, 
at  Netherfield,  of  the  implacability  of  his  resent- 
ments, of  his  having  an  unforgiving  temper.  His 
disposition  must  be  dreadful." 

will  not  trust  myself  on  the  subject,"  re- 
plied Wickham;  ^^I  can  hardly  be  just  to  him." 

Elizabeth  was  again  deep  in  thoncrht,  and  after 


122  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


a  time  exclaimed:  To  treat  in  such  a  manner  the 
godson,  the  friend,  the  favorite  of  his  father! 
She  could  have  added:  ^^A  young  man,  too,  like 
you,  whose  very  countenance  may  vouch  for  your 
being  amiable/'  But  she  contented  herself  with: 
^^And  one,  too,  who  had  probably  been  his  own 
companion  from  childhood,  connected  together,  as 
I  think  you  said,  in  the  closest  manner/' 

We  were  born  in  the  same  parish,  within  the 
same  park;  the  greatest  part  of  our  youth  was 
passed  together :  inmates  of  the  same  house,  shar- 
ing the  same  amusements,  objects  of  the  same 
parental  care.  My  father  began  life  in  the  pro- 
fession which  your  uncle,  Mr.  Philips,  appears  to 
do  so  much  credit  to;  but  he  gave  up  everything  to 
be  of  use  to  the  late  Mr.  Darcy,  and  devoted  all 
his  time  to  the  care  of  the  Pemberley  property. 
He  was  most  highly  esteemed  by  Mr.  Darcy,  a 
most  intimate,  confidential  friend.  Mr.  Darcy 
often  acknowledged  himself  to  be  under  the 
greatest  obligations  to  my  father's  active  super- 
intendence; and  when,  immediately  before  my 
father's  death,  Mr.  Darcy  gave  him  a  voluntary 
promise  of  providing  for  me,  I  am  convinced  that 
he  felt  it  to  be  as  much  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  him 
as  of  affection  to  myself." 

^'How  strange!"  cried  Elizabeth.  '^How 
abominable !  I  wonder  that  the  very  pride  of  this 
Mr.  Darcy  has  not  made  him  just  to  you.    If  from 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


123 


no  better  motive,  that  he  should  not  have  been 
too  proud  to  be  dishonest,  —  for  dishonesty  I  must 
call  it.'' 

'^It  is  wonderful/'  replied  Wickham;  ^^for  al- 
most all  his  actions  may  be  traced  to  pride ;  and 
pride  has  often  been  his  best  friend.  It  has  con- 
nected him  nearer  with  virtue  than  any  other  feel- 
ing. But  we  are  none  of  us  consistent;  and  in  his 
behavior  to  me  there  were  stronger  impulses  even 
than  pride." 

^^Can  such  abominable  pride  as  his  have  ever 
done  him  good?  " 

**Yes;  it  has  often  led  him  to  be  liberal  and 
generous;  to  give  his  money  freely,  to  display 
hospitality,  to  assist  his  tenants,  and  relieve  the 
poor.  Family  pride  and  filial  pride,  for  he  is 
Tery  proud  of  what  his  father  was,  have  done  this. 
Not  to  appear  to  disgrace  his  family,  to  degenerate 
from  the  popular  qualities,  or  lose  the  influence  of 
the  Pemberley  House,  is  a  powerful  motive.  He 
has  also  brotherly  pride,  which,  with  some 
brotherly  affection,  makes  him  a  very  kind  and 
careful  guardian  of  his  sister;  and  you  will  hear 
him  generally  cried  up  as  the  most  attentive  and 
best  of  brothers." 

What  sort  of  a  girl  is  Miss  Darcy?  " 

He  shook  his  head.  ^'I  wish  I  could  call  her 
amiable.  It  gives  me  pain  to  speak  ill  of  a 
Darcy;  but  she  is  too  much  like  her  brother,  — 


124  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


very,  very  proud.  As  a  child,  she  was  affectionate 
and  pleasing,  and  extremely  fond  of  me;  and  I 
have  devoted  hours  and  hours  to  her  amusement. 
But  she  is  nothing  to  me  now.  She  is  a  handsome 
girl,  ahout  fifteen  or  sixteen,  and,  I  understand, 
highly  accomplished.  Since  her  father's  death 
her  home  has  been  London,  where  a  lady  lives 
with  her,  and  superintends  her  education.'' 

After  many  pauses  and  many  trials  of  other 
subjects,  Elizabeth  could  not  help  reverting  once 
more  to  the  first,  and  saying,  — 

^^I  am  astonished  at  his  intimacy  with  Mr. 
Bingley.  How  can  Mr.  Bingley,  who  seems  good- 
humor  itself,  and  is,  I  really  believe,  truly  ami- 
able, be  in  friendship  with  such  a  man?  How  can 
they  suit  each  other?   Do  you  know  Mr.  Bingley?  " 

'''Not  at  all." 

''He  is  a  sweet-tempered,  amiable,  charming 
man.    He  cannot  know  what  Mr.  Darcy  is." 

'^Probably  not;  but  Mr.  Darcy  can  please 
where  he  chooses.  He  does  not  want  abilities. 
He  can  be  a  conversable  companion  if  he  thinks  it 
worth  his  while.  Among  those  who  are  at  all  his 
equals  in  consequence,  he  is  a  very  different  man 
from  what  he  is  to  the  less  prosperous.  His  pride 
never  deserts  him;  but  with  the  rich  he  is  liberal- 
minded,  just,  sincere,  rational,  honorable,  and, 
perhaps,  agreeable,  —  allowing  something  for  for- 
tune and  figure." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  125 


The  whist-party  soon  afterwards  breaking  up, 
the  players  gathered  round  the  other  table,  and 
Mr.  Collins  took  his  station  between  his  cousin 
Elizabeth  and  Mrs.  Philips.  The  usual  inquiries 
as  to  his  success  were  made  by  the  latter.  It  had 
not  been  very  great ;  he  had  lost  every  point :  but 
when  Mrs.  Philips  began  to  express  her  concern 
thereupon,  he  assured  her,  with  much  earnest 
gravity,  that  it  was  not  of  the  least  importance; 
that  he  considered  the  money  as  a  mere  trifle,  and 
begged  she  would  not  make  herself  uneasy. 

"1  know  very  well,  madam,''  said  he,  ^'that 
when  persons  sit  down  to  a  card-table  they  must 
take  their  chance  of  these  things,  —  and  happily  I 
am  not  in  such  circumstances  as  to  make  five  shil- 
lings any  object.  There  are,  undoubtedly,  many 
who  could  not  say  the  same;  but,  thanks  to  Lady 
Catherine  de  Bourgh,  I  am  removed  far  beyond 
the  necessity  of  regarding  little  matters.'' 

Mr.  Wickham's  attention  was  caught;  and  after 
observing  Mr.  Collins  for  a  few  moments,  he  asked 
Elizabeth  in  a  low  voice  whether  her  relations 
were  very  intimately  acquainted  with  the  family 
of  De  Bourgh. 

^'Lady  Catherine  de  Bourgh,"  she  replied, 
*'has  very  lately  given  him  a  living.  I  .hardly 
know  how  Mr.  Collins  was  first  introduced  to  her 
notice,  but  he  certainly  has  not  known  her  long." 

**You  know  of  course  that  Lady  Catherine  de 


126  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Bourgh  and  Lady  Anne  Darcy  were  sisters;  con- 
sequently that  she  is  aunt  to  the  present  Mr. 
Darcy." 

^^No,  indeed,  I  did  not.  I  knew  nothing  at  all 
of  Lady  Catherine's  connections.  I  never  heard 
of  her  existence  till  the  day  before  yesterday.'' 

*^Her  daughter,  Miss  de  Bourgh,  will  have  a 
very  large  fortune,  and  it  is  believed  that  she  and 
her  cousin  will  unite  the  two  estates." 

This  information  made  Elizabeth  smile,  as  she 
thought  of  poor  Miss  Bingley.  Vain  indeed  must 
be  all  her  attentions,  vain  and  useless  her  affection 
for  his  sister  and  her  praise  of  himself,  if  he  were 
already  self-destined  to  another. 

*^Mr.  Collins,"  said  she,  speaks  highly  both 
of  Lady  Catherine  and  her  daughter;  but,  from 
some  particulars  that  he  has  related  of  her  Lady- 
ship, I  suspect  his  gratitude  misleads  him,  and 
that,  in  spite  of  her  being  his  patroness,  she  is  an 
arrogant,  conceited  woman." 

believe  her  to  be  both  in  a  great  degree," 
replied  Wickham.  have  not  seen  her  for  many 

years;  but  I  very  well  remember  that  I  never 
liked  her,  and  that  her  manners  were  dictatorial 
and  insolent.  She  has  the  reputation  of  being 
remarkably  sensible  and  clever;  but  I  rather  be- 
lieve she  derives  part  of  her  abilities  from  her 
rank  and  fortune,  part  from  her  authoritative  man- 
ner, and  the  rest  from  the  pride  of  her  nephew, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  127 


who  chooses  that  ev^ery  one  connected  with  him 
should  have  an  understanding  of  the  first  class.'' 

Elizabeth  allowed  that  he  had  given  a  very  ra- 
tional account  of  it,  and  they  continued  talking 
together  with  mutual  satisfaction  till  supper  put 
an  end  to  cards,  and  gave  the  rest  of  the  ladies 
their  share  of  Mr.  Wickham's  attentions.  There 
could  be  no  conversation  in  the  noise  of  Mrs. 
Philips's  supper-party,  but  his  manners  recom- 
mended him  to  everybody.  Whatever  he  said, 
was  said  well ;  and  whatever  he  did,  done  grace- 
fully. Elizabeth  went  away  with  her  head  full  of 
him.  She  could  think  of  nothing  but  of  Mr. 
Wickham,  and  of  what  he  had  told  her,  all  the 
way  home ;  but  there  was  not  time  for  her  even  to 
mention  his  name  as  they  went,  for  neither  Lydia 
nor  Mr.  Collins  was  once  silent.  Lydia  talked 
incessantly  of  lottery  tickets,  of  the  fish  she  had 
lost  and  the  fish  she  had  won ;  and  Mr.  Collins,  in 
describing  the  civility  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Philips, 
protesting  that  he  did  not  in  the  least  regard  his 
losses  at  whist,  enumerating  all  the  dishes  at  sup- 
per, and  repeatedly  fearing  that  he  crowded  his 
cousins,  had  more  to  say  than  he  could  well  man- 
age before  the  carriage  stopped  at  Longbourn 
House. 


CHAPTEE  XVIl. 


Elizabeth  related  to  Jane,  the  next  day,  what 
had  passed  between  Mr.  Wickham  and  herself. 
Jane  listened  with  astonishment  and  concern:  she 
knew  not  how  to  believe  that  Mr.  Darcy  could  be 
so  unworthy  of  Mr.  Bingley's  regard;  and  yet  it 
was  not  in  her  nature  to  question  the  veracity  of  a 
3'^oung  man  of  such  amiable  appearance  as  Wickham. 
The  possibility  of  his  having  really  endured  such 
unkindness  was  enough  to  interest  all  her  tender 
feelings;  and  nothing  therefore  remained  to  be 
done  but  to  think  well  of  them  both,  to  defend  the 
conduct  of  each,  and  throw  into  the  account  of 
accident  or  mistake  whatever  could  not  be  other- 
wise explained. 

^^Tliey  have  both,''  said  she,  ^^been  deceived, 
I  dare  say,  in  some  way  or  other,  of  which  we  can 
form  no  idea.  Interested  people  have  perhaps 
misrepresented  each  to  the  other.  It  is,  in  short, 
impossible  for  us  to  conjecture  the  causes  or  cir- 
cumstances which  may  have  alienated  them,  with- 
out actual  blame  on  either  side.'' 

'^Yery  true,  indeed;  and  now,  my  dear  Jane, 
what  have  you  got  to  say  in  behalf  of  the  in- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


129 


terested  people  who  have  probably  been  concerned 
in  the  business?  Do  clear  them,  too,  or  we  shall 
be  obliged  to  think  ill  of  somebody. 

Laugh  as  much  as  you  choose,  but  you  will 
not  laugh  me  out  of  my  opinion.  My  dearest 
Lizzy,  do  but  consider  in  what  a  disgraceful  light 
it  places  Mr.  Darcy,  to  be  treating  his  father's 
favorite  in  such  a  manner,  —  one  whom  his  father 
had  promised  to  provide  for.  It  is  impossible. 
No  man  of  common  humanity,  no  man  who  had 
any  value  for  his  character,  could  be  capable  of  it. 
Can  his  most  intimate  friends  be  so  excessively 
deceived  in  him?    Oh,  no!  '' 

^^I  can  much  more  easily  believe  Mr.  Bingley's 
being  imposed  on  than  that  Mr.  Wickham  should 
invent  such  a  history  of  himself  as  he  gave  me 
last  night;  names,  facts,  everything  mentioned 
without  ceremony.  If  it  be  not  so,  let  Mr.  Darcy 
contradict  it.  Besides,  there  was  truth  in  hia 
looks." 

**It  is  difficult,  indeed,  — it  is  distressing.  One 
does  not  know  what  to  think.'' 

^^I  beg  your  pardon;  one  knows  exactly  what 
to  think." 

But  Jane  could  think  with  certainty  on  only 
one  point,  —  that  Mr.  Bingley,  if  he  had  been  im^ 
posed  on,  would  have  much  to  suffer  when  the 
affair  became  public. 

The  two  young  ladies  were  summoned  from  the 

VOL.  I.  —  9 


130 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


shrubbery,  where  this  conversation  passed,  by  the 
arrival  of  some  of  the  very  persons  of  whom  they 
had  been  speaking;  Mr.  Bingley  and  his  sisters 
came  to  give  their  personal  invitation  for  the  long 
expected  ball  at  Netherfield,  which  was  fixed  for 
the  following  Tuesday.  The  two  ladies  were  de- 
lighted to  see  their  dear  friend  again,  called  it  an 
age  since  they  had  met,  and  repeatedly  asked  what 
she  had  been  doing  with  herself  since  their  separa- 
tion. To  the  rest  of  the  family  they  paid  little 
attention;  avoiding  Mrs.  Bennet  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, saying  not  much  to  Elizabeth,  and  nothing 
at  all  to  the  others.  They  were  soon  gone  again, 
rising  from  their  seats  with  an  activity  which  took 
their  brother  by  surprise,  and  hurrying  off  as  if 
eager  to  escape  from  Mrs.  Bennet's  civilities. 

The  prospect  of  the  Netherfield  ball  was  ex- 
tremely agreeable  to  every  female  of  the  family. 
Mrs.  Bennet  chose  to  consider  it  as  given  in  com- 
pliment to  her  eldest  daughter,  and  was  particu- 
larly flattered  by  receiving  the  invitation  from 
Mr.  Bingley  himself,  instead  of  a  ceremonious 
card.  Jane  pictured  to  herself  a  happy  evening 
in  the  society  of  her  two  friends,  and  the  atten- 
tions of  their  brother;  and  Elizabeth  thought  with 
pleasure  of  dancing  a  great  deal  with  Mr.  Wick- 
ham,  and  of  seeing  a  confirmation  of  everything  in 
Mr.  Darcy's  look  and  behavior.  The  happiness 
anticipated  by  Catherine  and  Lydia  depended  less 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


131 


on  any  single  event  or  any  particular  person;  for 
though  they  each,  like  Elizabeth  meant  to  dance 
half  the  evening  with  Mr.  Wickham,  he  was  by 
no  means  the  only  partner  who  could  satisfy  them, 
and  a  hall  was,  at  any  rate,  a  hall.  And  even 
Mary  could  assure  her  family  that  she  had  no 
disinclination  for  it. 

While  I  can  have  my  mornings  to  myself," 
said  she,  ''it  is  enough.  I  think  it  is  no  sacrifice 
to  join  occasionally  in  evening  engagements.  So- 
ciety has  claims  on  us  all;  and  I  profess  myself 
one  of  those  who  consider  intervals  of  recreation 
and  amusement  as  desirable  for  everybody. 

Elizabeth's  spirits  were  so  high  on  the  occasion, 
that  though  she  did  not  often  speak  unnecessarily 
to  Mr.  Collins,  she  could  not  help  asking  him 
whether  he  intended  to  accept  Mr.  Bingley's  invi- 
tation, and  if  he  did,  whether  he  would  think  it 
proper  to  join  in  the  evening's  amusement;  and 
she  was  rather  surprised  to  find  that  he  entertained 
no  scruple  whatever  on  that  head,  and  was  very  far 
from  dreading  a  rebuke,  either  from  the  Arch- 
bishop or  Lady  Catherine  de  Bourgh,  by  venturing 
to  dance. 

"I  am  by  no  means  of  opinion,  I  assure  you," 
said  he,  ''that  a  ball  of  this  kind,  given  by  a 
young  man  of  character  to  respectable  people,  can 
have  any  evil  tendency;  and  I  am  so  far  from  ob- 
jecting to  dancing  myself,  that  I  shall  hope  to  be 


132  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


honored  with  the  hands  of  all  my  fair  cousins  in 
the  course  of  the  evening;  and  I  take  this  oppor- 
tunity of  soliciting  yours,  Miss  Elizabeth,  for  the 
two  first  dances  especially,  —  a  preference  which  I 
trust  my  cousin  Jane  will  attribute  to  the  right 
cause,  and  not  to  any  disrespect  for  her.'' 

Elizabeth  felt  herself  completely  taken  in.  She 
had  fully  proposed  being  engaged  by  Wickham  for 
those  very  dances;  and  to  have  Mr.  Collins  in- 
stead!—  her  liveliness  had  been  never  worse 
timed.  There  was  no  help  for  it,  however.  Mr. 
Wickham's  happiness  and  her  own  were  perforce 
delayed  a  little  longer,  and  Mr.  Collinses  proposal 
accepted  with  as  good  a  grace  as  she  could.  She 
was  not  the  better  pleased  with  his  gallantry,  from 
the  idea  it  suggested  of  something  more.  It  now 
first  struck  her  that  she  was  selected  from  among 
her  sisters  as  worthy  of  being  the  mistress  of 
Hunsford  Parsonage,  and  of  assisting  to  form  a 
quadrille  table  at  Rosings,  in  the  absence  of  more 
eligible  visitors.  The  idea  soon  reached  to  con- 
viction, as  she  observed  his  increasing  civilities 
towards  herself,  and  heard  his  frequent  attempt  at 
a  compliment  on  her  wit  and  vivacity;  and  though 
more  astonished  than  gratified  herself  by  this  ef- 
fect of  her  charms,  it  was  not  long  before  her 
mother  gave  her  to  understand  that  the  probability 
of  their  marriage  was  exceedingly  agreeable  to  her. 
Elizabeth,  however,  did  not  choose  to  take  the 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


133 


hint,  being  well  aware  that  a  serious  dispute  must 
be  the  consequence  of  any  reply.  Mr.  Collins 
might  never  make  the  offer,  and,  till  he  did,  it 
was  useless  to  quarrel  about  him. 

If  there  had  not  been  a  Netherfield  ball  to  pre- 
pare for  and  talk  of,  the  younger  Miss  Bennets 
would  have  been  in  a  pitiable  state  at  this  time; 
for  from  the  day  of  the  invitation  to  the  day  of  the 
ball  there  was  such  a  succession  of  rain  as  pre^ 
vented  their  walking  to  Meryton  once.  'No  aunt, 
no  officers,  no  news  could  be  sought  after;  the  very 
shoe-roses  for  Netherfield  were  got  by  proxy. 
Even  Elizabeth  might  have  found  some  trial  of 
her  patience  in  weather  which  totally  suspended 
the  improvement  of  her  acquaintance  with  Mr. 
Wickham ;  and  nothing  less  than  a  dance  on  Tues- 
day could  have  made  such  a  Friday,  Saturday, 
Sunday,  and  Monday  endurable  to  Kitty  and 
Lydia. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


Till  Elizabeth  entered  the  drawing-room  at  Keth- 
erfield,  and  looked  in  vain  for  Mr.  Wickham 
among  the  cluster  of  red  coats  there  assembled,  a 
doubt  of  his  being  present  had  never  occurred  to 
her.  The  certainty  of  meeting  him  had  not  been 
checked  by  any  of  those  recollections  that  might 
not  unreasonably  have  alarmed  her.  She  had 
dressed  with  more  than  usual  care,  and  prepared 
in  the  highest  spirits  for  the  conquest  of  all  that 
remained  unsubdued  of  his  heart,  trusting  that  it 
was  not  more  than  might  be  won  in  the  course  of 
the  evening.  But  in  an  instant  arose  the  dreadful 
suspicion  of  his  being  purposely  omitted,  for  Mr. 
Darcy's  pleasure,  in  the  Bingleys'  invitation  to 
the  officers;  and  though  this  was  not  exactly  the 
case,  the  absolute  fact  of  his  absence  was  pro- 
nounced by  his  friend  Mr.  Denny,  to  whom  Lydia 
eagerly  applied,  and  who  told  them  that  Wickham 
had  been  obliged  to  go  to  town  on  business  the  day 
before,  and  was  not  yet  returned;  adding,  with  a 
significant  smile,  — 

^'1  do  not  imagine  his  business  would  have 
called  him  away  just  now,  if  he  had  not  wished 
to  avoid  a  certain  gentleman  here.'' 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


135 


This  part  of  his  intelligence,  though  unheard 
by  Lydia,  was  caught  by  Elizabeth;  and  as  it  as- 
sured her  that  Darcy  was  not  less  answerable  for 
Wickham's  absence  than  if  her  first  surmise  had 
been  just,  every  feeling  of  displeasure  against  the 
former  was  so  sharpened  by  immediate  disappoint- 
ment, that  she  could  hardly  reply  with  tolerable 
civility  to  the  polite  inquiries  which  he  directly 
afterwards  approached  to  make.  Attention,  for- 
bearance, patience  with  Darcy,  were  injury  to 
Wickham,  She  was  resolved  against  any  sort  of 
conversation  with  him,  and  turned  away  with  a 
degree  of  ill-humor  which  she  could  not  wholly 
surmount  even  in  speaking  to  Mr.  Bingley,  whose 
blind  partiality  provoked  her. 

But  Elizabeth  was  not  formed  for  ill-humor; 
and  though  every  prospect  of  her  own  was  de- 
stroyed for  the  evening,  it  could  not  dwell  long 
on  her  spirits;  and  having  told  all  her  griefs  to 
Charlotte  Lucas,  whom  she  had  not  seen  for  a 
week,  she  was  soon  able  to  make  a  voluntary 
transition  to  the  oddities  of  her  cousin,  and  to 
point  him  out  to  her  particular  notice.  The  two 
first  dances,  however,  brought  a  return  of  distress : 
they  were  dances  of  mortification.  Mr.  Collins, 
awkward  and  solemn,  apologizing  instead  of  at- 
tending, and  often  moving  wrong  without  being 
aware  of  it,  gave  her  all  the  shame  and  misery 
which  a  disagreeable  partner  for  a  couple  of  dances 


136  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


can  give.  The  moment  of  her  release  from  him 
was  ecstasy. 

She  danced  next  with  an  officer,  and  had  the  re- 
freshment of  talking  of  Wickham,  and  of  hearing 
that  he  was  universally  liked.  When  those  dances 
were  over,  she  returned  to  Charlotte  Lucas,  and 
was  in  conversation  with  her,  when  she  found  her- 
self suddenly  addressed  by  Mr.  Darcy,  who  took 
her  so  much  by  surprise  in  his  application  for  her 
hand,  that,  without  knowing  what  she  did,  she  ac- 
cepted him.  He  walked  away  again  immediately, 
and  she  was  left  to  fret  over  her  own  want  of  pres- 
ence of  mind.    Charlotte  tried  to  console  her. 

dare  say  you  vdll  find  him  very  agreeable.'' 
Heaven  forbid!    That  would  be  the  greatest 
misfortune  of  all !    To  find  a  man  agreeable  whom 
one  is  determined  to  hate!    Do  not  wish  me  such 
an  evil.'' 

When  the  dancing  recommenced,  however,  and 
Darcy  approached  to  claim  her  hand,  Charlotte 
could  not  help  cautioning  her,  in  a  whisper,  not  to 
be  a  simpleton,  and  allow  her  fancy  for  Wickham 
to  make  her  appear  unpleasant  in  the  eyes  of  a 
man  of  ten  times  his  consequence.  Elizabeth 
made  no  answer,  and  took  her  place  in  the  set, 
amazed  at  the  dignity  to  which  she  was  arrived  in 
being  allowed  to  stand  opposite  to  Mr.  Darcy,  and 
reading  in  her  neighbors'  looks  their  equal  amaze- 
ment in  beholding  it.    They  stood  for  some  time 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  137 


without  speaking  a  word ;  and  she  began  to  ima- 
gine that  their  silence  was  to  last  through  the  two 
dances,  and  at  first  was  resolved  not  to  break  it; 
till  suddenly  fancying  that  it  would  be  the  greater 
punishment  to  her  partner  to  oblige  him  to  talk, 
she  made  some  slight  observation  on  the  dance. 
He  replied,  and  was  again  silent.  After  a  pause 
of  some  minutes,  she  addressed  him  a  second  time, 
with,  — 

^^It  is  your  turn  to  say  something  now,  Mr. 
Darcy.  I  talked  about  the  dance,  and  you  ought 
to  make  some  kind  of  remark  on  the  size  of  the 
room  or  the  number  of  couples.'' 

He  smiled,  and  assured  her  that  whatever  she 
wished  him  to  say  should  be  said. 

Very  well;  that  reply  will  do  for  the  present. 
Perhaps,  by  and  by,  I  may  observe  that  private 
balls  are  much  pleasanter  than  public  ones;  but 
now  we  may  be  silent.'' 

Do  you  talk  by  rule,  then,  while  you  are 
dancing?  " 

^*  Sometimes.  One  must  speak  a  little,  you 
know.  It  would  look  odd  to  be  entirely  silent  for 
half  an  hour  together ;  and  yet,  for  the  advantage 
of  some,  conversation  ought  to  be  so  arranged  as 
that  they  may  have  the  trouble  of  saying  as  little 
as  possible." 

Are  you  consulting  your  own  feelings  in  the 
present  case,  or  do  you  imagine  that  you  are  grati- 
fying  mine?  " 


138 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Both, "  replied  Elizabeth,  archly;  for  I  have 
always  seen  a  great  similarity  in  the  turn  of  our 
minds.  We  are  each  of  an  unsocial,  taciturn 
disposition,  unwilling  to  speak,  unless  we  expect 
to  say  something  that  will  amaze  the  whole  room, 
and  be  handed  down  to  posterity  with  all  the 
eclat  of  a  proverb.'' 

^^This  is  no  very  striking  resemblance  of  your 
own  character,  I  am  sure,''  said  he.  ^^How  near 
it  may  be  to  mine,  I  cannot  pretend  to  say.  You 
think  it  a  faithful  portrait,  undoubtedly." 

I  must  not  decide  on  my  own  performance." 
He  made  no  answer,  and  they  were  again  silent 
till  they  had  gone  down  the  dance,  when  he  asked 
her  if  she  and  her  sisters  did  not  very  often  walk 
to  Meryton.  She  answered  in  the  affirmative ;  and 
unable  to  resist  the  temptation,  added,  ^^When 
you  met  us  there  the  other  day,  we  had  just  been 
forming  a  new  acquaintance." 

The  effect  was  immediate.  A  deeper  shade 
of  hauteur  overspread  his  features,  but  he  said 
not  a  word;  and  Elizabeth,  though  blaming  her- 
self for  her  own  weakness,  could  not  go  on.  At 
length  Darcy  spoke,  and  in  a  constrained  manner 
said,  — 

'^Mr.  Wickham  is  blessed  with  such  happy  man- 
ners as  may  insure  his  making  friends;  whether 
he  may  be  equally  capable  of  retaining  them,  is 
less  certain." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


139 


'*He  has  been  so  unlucky  as  to  lose  your  friend- 
ship/' replied  Elizabeth  with  emphasis,  *'and  in 
a  manner  which  he  is  likely  to  suffer  from  all  his 
life/' 

Darcy  made  no  answer,  and  seemed  desirous  of 
changing  the  subject.  At  that  moment  Sir  Wil- 
liam Lucas  appeared  close  to  them,  meaning  to 
pass  through  the  set  to  the  other  side  of  the  room; 
but  on  perceiving  Mr.  Darcy,  he  stopped,  with  a 
bow  of  superior  courtesy,  to  compliment  him  on 
his  dancing  and  his  partner. 

•^I  have  been  most  highly  gratified,  indeed,  my 
dear  sir;  such  very  superior  dancing  is  not  often 
seen.  It  is  evident  that  you  belong  to  the  first 
circles.  Allow  me  to  say,  however,  that  your  fair 
partner  does  not  disgrace  you;  and  that  I  must 
hope  to  have  this  pleasure  often  repeated,  especially 
when  a  certain  desirable  event,  my  dear  Miss 
Eliza  "  (glancing  at  her  sister  and  Bingley), 
*^  shall  take  place.  What  congratulations  will  then 
flow  in !  I  appeal  to  Mr.  Darcy ;  —  but  let  me 
not  interrupt  you,  sir.  You  will  not  thank  me  for 
detaining  you  from  the  bewitching  converse  of  that 
young  lady,  whose  bright  eyes  are  also  upbraiding 
me." 

The  latter  part  of  this  address  was  scarcely 
heard  by  Darcy;  but  Sir  William's  allusion  to  his 
friend  seemed  to  strike  him  forcibly,  and  his  eyes 
were  directed,  with  a  very  serious  expression, 


140  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


towards  Bingley  and  Jane,  who  were  dancing  to- 
gether. Kecovering  himself,  however,  shortly,  he 
turned  to  his  partner,  and  said,  — 

Sir  William's  interruption  has  made  me  forget 
what  we  were  talking  of." 

do  not  think  we  were  speaking  at  all.  Sir 
William  could  not  have  interrupted  any  two  people 
in  the  room  who  had  less  to  say  for  themselves. 
We  have  tried  two  or  three  subjects  alread}^  with- 
out success,  and  what  we  are  to  talk  of  next  I  can- 
not imagine." 

What  think  you  of  books?  "  said  he,  smiling. 

*^ Books,  oh,  no!  I  am  sure  we  never  read  the 
same,  or  not  with  the  same  feelings." 

^^I  am  sorry  you  think  so;  but  if  that  be  the 
case,  there  can  at  least  be  no  want  of  subject.  We 
may  compare  our  different  opinions." 

*^No,  I  cannot  talk  of  books  in  a  ball-room;  my 
head  is  always  full  of  something  else." 

^^The  present  always  occupies  you  in  such 
scenes,  does  it?  "  said  he,  with  a  look  of  doubt. 

^^Yes,  always,"  she  replied,  without  knowing 
what  she  said ;  for  her  thoughts  had  wandered  far 
from  the  subject,  as  soon  afterwards  appeared  by 
her  suddenly  exclaiming:  '^I  remember  hearing 
you  once  say,  Mr.  Darcy,  that  you  hardly  ever 
forgave;  that  your  resentment,  once  created,  was 
unappeasable.  You  are  very  cautious,  I  suj?* 
pose,  as  to  its  being  created? 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  141 


'^I  am/'  said  he,  with  a  firm  voice. 
' '  And  never  allow  yourself  to  be  blinded  by 
prejudice? 

^^I  hope  not.'' 

^^It  is  particularly  incumbent  on  those  who 
never  change  their  opinion,  to  be  secure  of  judging 
properly  at  first." 

^^May  I  ask  to  what  these  questions  tend?  " 
Merely  to  the  illustration  of  your  character/' 
said  she,  endeavoring  to  shake  off  her  gravity, 
am  trying  to  make  it  out." 
And  what  is  your  success?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  I  do  not  get  on  at  all.  1 
hear  such  different  accounts  of  you  as  puzzle  me 
exceedingly." 

can  readily  believe,"  answered  he,  gravely, 
^^that  reports  may  vary  greatly  with  respect  to 
me;  and  I  could  wish,  Miss  Bennet,  that  you 
were  not  to  sketch  my  character  at  the  present 
moment,  as  there  is  reason  to  fear  that  the  per- 
formance would  reflect  no  credit  on  either." 

^^But  if  I  do  not  take  your  likeness  now,  I 
may  never  have  another  opportunity." 

*'I  would  by  no  means  suspend  any  pleasure 
of  yours,"  he  coldly  replied.  She  said  no  more, 
and  they  went  down  the  other  dance  and  parted 
in  silence;  on  each  side  dissatisfied,  though  not 
to  an  equal  degree:  for  in  Darcy's  breast  there 
was  a  tolerably  powerful  feeling  towards  her, 


142 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


which  soon  procured  her  pardon,  and  directed  all 
his  anger  against  another. 

They  had  not  long  separated  when  Miss  Bing- 
ley  came  towards  her,  and,  with  an  expression  of 
civil  disdain,  thus  accosted  her,  — 

So,  Miss  Eliza,  I  hear  you  are  quite  de- 
lighted with  George  Wickham?  Your  sister  has 
been  talking  to  me  about  him,  and  asking  me  a 
thousand  questions;  and  1  find  that  the  young 
man  forgot  to  tell  you,  among  his  other  commu- 
nications, that  he  was  the  son  of  old  Wickham, 
the  late  Mr.  Darcy's  steward.  Let  me  recom- 
mend you,  however,  as  a  friend,  not  to  give  im- 
plicit confidence  to  all  his  assertions;  for,  as  to 
Mr.  Darcy's  using  him  ill,  it  is  perfectly  false: 
for,  on  the  contrary,  he  has  been  always  remark- 
ably kind  to  him,  though  George  Wickham  has 
treated  Mr.  Darcy  in  a  most  infamous  manner.  I 
do  not  know  the  particulars,  but  I  know  very 
well  that  Mr.  Darcy  is  not  in  the  least  to  blame; 
that  he  cannot  bear  to  hear  George  Wickham 
mentioned;  and  that  though  my  brother  thought 
he  could  not  well  avoid  including  him  in  his  in- 
vitation to  the  officers,  he  was  excessively  glad 
to  find  that  he  had  taken  himself  out  of  the  way. 
His  coming  into  the  country  at  all  is  a  most  in- 
solent thing,  indeed,  and  I  wonder  how  he  could 
presume  to  do  it.  I  pity  jou,  Miss  Eliza,  for 
this  discovery  of  your  favorite's  guilt;  but  really, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


143 


considering  his  descent,  one  could  not  expect 
much  better.'^ 

^'His  guilt  and  his  descent  appear,  by  your 
account,  to  be  the  same,'^  said  Elizabeth,  angrily; 
'^for  I  have  heard  you  accuse  him  of  nothing 
worse  than  of  being  the  son  of  Mr.  Darcy's  stew- 
ard, and  of  that,  I  can  assure  you,  he  informed 
me  himself. 

^'I  beg  your  pardon, replied  Miss  Bingley, 
turning  away  with  a  sneer.  ^'Excuse  my  inter- 
ference; it  was  kindly  meant.'' 

Insolent  girl!"  said  Elizabeth  to  herself. 
*^You  are  much  mistaken  if  you  expect  to  in- 
fluence me  by  such  a  paltry  attack  as  this.  I  see 
nothing  in  it  but  your  own  wilful  ignorance  and 
the  malice  of  Mr.  Darcy.''  She  then  sought  her 
eldest  sister,  who  had  undertaken  to  make  in- 
quiries on  the  same  subject  of  Bingley.  Jane 
met  her  with  a  smile  of  such  sweet  complacency, 
a  glow  of  such  happy  expression,  as  sufficiently 
marked  how  well  she  was  satisfied  with  the  occur- 
rences of  the  evening.  Elizabeth  instantly  read 
her  feelings;  and  at  that  moment  solicitude  for 
Wickham,  resentment  against  his  enemies,  and 
everything  else  gave  way  before  the  hope  of 
Jane's  being  in  the  fairest  way  for  happiness. 

want  to  know,"  said  she,  with  a  counte- 
nance no  less  smiling  than  her  sister's,  ^^what 
you  have  learned  about  Mr.  Wickham.    But  per- 


144  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


haps  you  have  been  too  pleasantly  engaged  to 
think  of  any  third  person,  in  which  case  you 
may  be  sure  of  my  pardon. 

**No/'  replied  Jane,  "1  have  not  forgotten 
him;  but  I  have  nothing  satisfactory  to  tell  you. 
Mr.  Bingley  does  not  know  the  whole  of  his  his- 
tory, and  is  quite  ignorant  of  the  circumstances 
which  have  principally  offended  Mr.  Darcy;  but 
he  will  vouch  for  the  good  conduct,  the  probity 
and  honor,  of  his  friend,  and  is  perfectly  con- 
vinced that  Mr.  Wickham  has  deserved  much  less 
attention  from  Mr.  Darcy  than  he  has  received; 
and  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  by  his  account,  as  well 
as  his  sister's,  Mr.  Wickham  is  by  no  means  a 
respectable  young  man.  I  am  afraid  he  has  been 
very  imprudent,  and  has  deserved  to  lose  Mr. 
Darcy's  regard.'* 

^^Mr.  Bingley  does  not  know  Mr.  Wickham 
himself. '* 

^'No;  he  never  saw  him  till  the  other  morning 
at  Meryton.'* 

This  account  then  is  what  he  has  received 
from  Mr.  Darcy.  I  am  perfectly  satisfied.  But 
what  does  he  say  of  the  living?" 

^^He  does  not  exactly  recollect  the  circum- 
stances, though  he  has  heard  them  from  Mr.  Darcy 
more  than  once,  but  he  believes  that  it  was  left  to 
him  conditionally  only.'' 

I  have  not  a  doubt  of  Mr.  Bingley's  sincerity," 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  145 


said  Elizabeth,  warmly,  *'but  you  must  excuse  my 
not  being  convinced  by  assurances  only.  Mr. 
Bingley's  defence  of  his  friend  was  a  very  able 
one,  I  dare  say ;  but  since  he  is  unacquainted  with 
several  parts  of  the  story,  and  has  learned  the  rest 
from  that  friend  himself,  I  shall  venture  still  to 
think  of  both  gentlemen  as  I  did  before.'' 

She  then  changed  the  discourse  to  one  more 
gratifying  to  each,  and  on  which  there  could  be  no 
difference  of  sentiment.  Elizabeth  listened  with 
delight  to  the  happy  though  modest  hopes  which 
Jane  entertained  of  Bingley's  regard,  and  said  all 
in  her  power  to  heighten  her  confidence  in  it.  On 
their  being  joined  by  Mr.  Bingley  himself,  Eliza- 
beth withdrew  to  Miss  Lucas;  to  whose  inquiry 
after  the  pleasantness  of  her  last  partner  she  had 
scarcely  replied,  before  Mr.  Collins  came  up  to 
them,  and  told  her,  with  great  exultation,  that  he 
had  just  been  so  fortunate  as  to  make  a  most 
important  discovery. 

^'1  have  found  out,''  said  he,  '^by  a  singular 
accident,  that  there  is  now  in  the  room  a  near 
relation  to  my  patroness.  I  happened  to  overhear 
the  gentleman  himself  mentioning  to  the  young 
lady  who  does  the  honors  of  this  house  the  names 
of  his  cousin  Miss  de  Bourgh,  and  of  her  mother 
Lady  Catherine.  How  wonderfully  these  sort  of 
things  occur!  Who  would  have  thought  of  my 
meeting  with  — perhaps  —  a  nephew  of  Lady  Cath- 

VOL.  I.  — 10 


146  PRIDE  Ai^D  PREJtfDICU. 


erine  de  Bourgh  in  this  assembly!  I  am  most 
thankful  that  the  discovery  is  made  in  time  for 
me  to  pay  my  respects  to  him,  which  I  am  now 
going  to  do,  and  trust  he  will  excuse  my  not 
having  done  it  before.  My  total  ignorance  of  the 
connection  must  plead  my  apology. 

You  are  not  going  to  introduce  yourself  to 
Mr.  Darcy?" 

Indeed  I  am.  I  shall  entreat  his  pardon  for 
not  having  done  it  earlier.  I  believe  him  to  be 
Lady  Catherine's  nephew.  It  will  be  in  my  power 
to  assure  him  that  her  Ladyship  was  quite  well 
yesterday  se'nniglit.'' 

Elizabeth  tried  hard  to  dissuade  him  from  such 
a  scheme;  assuring  him  that  Mr.  Darcy  would 
consider  his  addressing  him  without  introduc- 
tion as  an  impertinent  freedom,  rather  than  a 
compliment  to  his  aunt;  that  it  was  not  in  the 
least  necessary  there  should  be  any  notice  on 
either  side,  and  that  if  it  were,  it  must  belong  to 
Mr.  Darcy,  the  superior  in  consequence,  to  begin 
the  acquaintance.  Mr.  Collins  listened  to  her 
with  the  determined  air  of  following  his  own 
inclination,  and  when  she  ceased  speaking,  replied 
thus,  — 

*^My  dear  Miss  Elizabeth,  I  have  the  highest 
opinion  in  the  world  of  your  excellent  judgment 
in  all  matters  within  the  scope  of  your  understand- 
ing, but  permit  me  to  say  that  there  must  be  a 


rRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  147 


wide  difference  between  the  established  forms  of 
ceremony  amongst  the  laity  and  those  which  regu- 
late the  clergy;  for  give  me  leave  to  observe  that 
I  consider  the  clerical  office  as  equal  in  point  of 
dignity  with  the  highest  rank  in  the  kingdom,  — 
provided  that  a  proper  humility  of  behavior  is  at 
the  same  time  maintained.  You  must  therefore 
allow  me  to  follow  the  dictates  of  my  conscience 
on  this  occasion,  which  leads  me  to  perform  what 
I  look  on  as  a  point  of  duty.  Pardon  me  for 
neglecting  to  profit  by  your  advice,  which  on  every 
other  subject  shall  be  my  constant  guide,  though 
in  the  case  before  us  I  consider  myself  more  fitted 
by  education  and  habitual  study  to  decide  on  what 
is  right  than  a  young  lady  like  yourself;  "  and 
with  a  low  bow  he  left  her  to  attack  Mr.  Darcy, 
whose  reception  of  his  advances  she  eagerlj'' 
watched,  and  whose  astonishment  at  being  so  ad- 
dressed was  very  evident.  Her  cousin  prefaced 
his  speech  with  a  solemn  bow,  and  though  she 
could  not  hear  a  word  of  it,  she  felt  as  if  hearing 
it  all,  and  saw  in  the  motion  of  his  lips  the  words 
apology, Hunsford,''  and  ^^Lady  Catherine 
de  Bourgh.''  It  vexed  her  to  see  him  expose  him- 
self to  such  a  man.  Mr.  Darcy  was  eying  him 
with  unrestrained  wonder;  and  when  at  last  Mr. 
Collins  allowed  him  to  speak,  replied  with  an  air 
of  distant  civility.  Mr.  Collins,  however,  was 
not  discouraged  from  speaking  again,  and  Mr. 


148  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Darcy's  contempt  seemed  abundantly  increasing 
with  the  length  of  his  second  speech;  and  at  the 
end  of  it  he  only  made  him  a  slight  bow,  and 
moved  another  way.  Mr.  Collins  then  returned 
to  Elizabeth. 

I  have  no  reason,  I  assure  you,''  said  he,  to 
be  dissatisfied  with  my  reception.  Mr.  Darcy 
seemed  much  pleased  with  the  attention.  He 
answered  me  with  the  utmost  civility,  and  even 
paid  me  the  compliment  of  saying  that  he  was  so 
well  convinced  of  Lady  Catherine's  discernment  as 
to  be  certain  she  could  never  bestow  a  favor  un- 
worthily. It  was  really  a  very  handsome  thought. 
Upon  the  whole,  I  am  much  pleased  with  him." 

As  Elizabeth  had  no  longer  any  interest  of  her 
own  to  pursue,  she  turned  her  attention  almost 
entirely  on  her  sister  and  Mr.  Bingley;  and  the 
train  of  agreeable  reflections  which  her  observar 
tions  gave  birth  to  made  her  perhaps  almost  as 
happy  as  Jane.  She  saw  her  in  idea  settled  in 
that  very  house,  in  all  the  felicity  which  a  mar- 
riage of  true  affection  could  bestow;  and  she  felt 
capable,  under  such  circumstances,  of  endeavoring 
even  to  like  Bingley's  two  sisters.  Her  mother's 
thoughts  she  plainly  saw  were  bent  the  same  way, 
and  she  determined  not  to  venture  near  her,  lest 
she  might  hear  too  much.  When  they  sat  down 
to  supper,  therefore,  she  considered  it  a  most  un- 
lucky perverseness  which  placed  them  within  one  of 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  149 


each  other;  and  deeply  was  she  vexed  to  find  that 
her  mother  was  talking  to  that  one  person  (Lady 
Lucas)  freely,  openly,  and  of  nothing  else  but  of 
her  expectation  that  Jane  would  be  soon  married 
to  Mr.  Bingley.  It  was  an  animating  subject, 
and  Mrs.  Bennet  seemed  incapable  of  fatigue  while 
enumerating  the  advantages  of  the  match.  His 
being  such  a  charming  young  man,  and  so  rich, 
and  living  but  three  miles  from  them,  were  the 
first  points  of  self-gratulation ;  and  then  it  was  such 
a  comfort  to  think  how  fond  the  two  sisters  were  of 
Jane,  and  to  be  certain  that  they  must  desire  the 
connection  as  much  as  she  could  do.  It  was, 
moreover,  such  a  promising  thing  for  her  younger 
daughters,  as  Jane's  marrying  so  greatly  must 
throw  them  in  the  way  of  other  rich  men;  and, 
lastly,  it  was  so  pleasant  at  her  time  of  life  to  be 
able  to  consign  her  single  daughters  to  the  care  of 
their  sister,  that  she  might  not  be  obliged  to  go  into 
company  more  than  she  liked.  It  was  necessary 
to  make  this  circumstance  a  matter  of  pleasure, 
because  on  such  occasions  it  is  the  etiquette;  but 
no  one  was  less  likely  than  Mrs.  Bennet  to  find 
comfort  in  staying  at  home  at  any  period  of  her 
life.  She  concluded  with  many  good  wishes  that 
Lady  Lucas  might  soon  be  equally  fortunate, 
though  evidently  and  triumphantly  believing  there 
was  no  chance  of  it. 

In  vain  did  Elizabeth  endeavor  to  check  the 


150  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


rapidity  of  her  mother's  words,  or  persuade  her  to 
describe  her  felicity  in  a  less  audible  whisper;  for 
to  her  inexpressible  vexation  she  could  perceive 
that  the  chief  of  it  was  overheard  by  Mr.  Darcy, 
who  sat  opposite  to  them.  Her  mother  only 
scolded  her  for  being  nonsensical. 

^^What  is  Mr.  Darcy  to  me,  pray,  that  I  should 
be  afraid  of  him?  I  am  sure  we  owe  him  no  such 
particular  civility  as  to  be  obliged  to  say  nothing 
he  may  not  like  to  hear." 

^^For  heaven's  sake,  madam,  speak  lower. 
What  advantage  can  it  be  to  you  to  offend  Mr. 
Darcy?  You  will  never  recommend  yourself  to 
his  friend  by  so  doing." 

Nothing  that  she  could  say,  however,  had  any 
influence.  Her  mother  would  talk  of  her  views  in 
the  same  intelligible  tone.  Elizabeth  blushed 
and  blushed  again  with  shame  and  vexation.  She 
could  not  help  frequently  glancing  her  eye  at  Mr. 
Darcy,  though  every  glance  convinced  her  of  what 
she  dreaded;  for  though  he  was  not  always  look- 
ing at  her  mother,  she  was  convinced  that  his 
attention  was  invariably  fixed  by  her.  The  ex- 
pression of  his  face  changed  gradually  from  indig- 
nant contempt  to  a  composed  and  steady  gravity. 

At  length,  however,  Mrs.  Bennet  had  no  more 
to  say;  and  Lady  Lucas,  who  had  been  long 
yawning  at  the  repetition  of  delights  which  she 
saw  no  likelihood  of  sharing,  was  left  to  the 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  151 


comforts  of  cold  ham  and  chicken.  Elizabeth  now 
began  to  revive.  But  not  long  was  the  interval  of 
tranquillity;  for  when  supper  was  over,  singing 
was  talked  of,  and  she  had  the  mortification  of 
seeing  Mary,  after  very  little  entreaty,  prejjaring 
to  oblige  the  company.  By  many  significant  looks 
and  silent  entreaties  did  she  endeavor  to  prevent 
such  a  proof  of  complaisance,  but  in  vain :  Mary 
would  not  understand  them;  such  an  opportunity 
of  exhibiting  was  delightful  to  her,  and  she  be- 
gan her  song.  Elizabeth's  eyes  were  fixed  on  her 
with  most  painful  sensations,  and  she  watched  her 
progress  through  the  several  stanzas  with  an  im- 
patience which  was  very  ill  rewarded  at  their 
close ;  for  Mary,  on  receiving  amongst  the  thanks 
of  the  table  the  hint  of  a  hope  that  she  might  be 
prevailed  on  to  favor  them  again,  after  the  pause 
of  half  a  minute,  began  another.  Mary's  powers 
were  by  no  means  fitted  for  such  a  display;  her 
voice  was  weak,  and  her  manner  affected.  Eliza- 
beth was  in  agonies.  She  looked  at  Jane  to  see 
how  she  bore  it;  but  Jane  was  very  composedly 
talking  to  Bingley.  She  looked  at  his  two  sisters, 
and  saw  them  making  signs  of  derision  at  each 
other;  and  at  Darcy,  who  continued,  however, 
impenetrably  grave.  She  looked  at  her  father  to 
entreat  his  interference,  lest  Mary  should  be  sing- 
ing all  night.  He  took  the  hint,  and  when  Mary 
had  finished  her  second  song,  said  aloud,  — 


152  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


*^That  will  do  extremely  well,  child.  You 
have  delighted  us  long  enough.  Let  the  other 
young  ladies  have  time  to  exhibit. 

Mary,  though  pretending  not  to  hear,  was  some- 
what disconcerted;  and  Elizabeth,  sorry  for  her 
and  sorry  for  her  father's  speech,  was  afraid  her 
anxiety  had  done  no  good.  Others  of  the  party 
were  now  applied  to. 

^^If  I,''  said  Mr.  Collins,  '^were  so  fortunate 
as  to  be  able  to  sing,  I  should  have  great  pleasure, 
I  am  sure,  in  obliging  the  company  with  an  air; 
for  I  consider  music  as  a  very  innocent  diversion, 
and  perfectly  compatible  with  the  profession  of  a 
clergyman.  I  do  not  mean,  however,  to  assert 
that  we  can  be  justified  in  devoting  too  much  of 
our  time  to  music,  for  there  are  certainly  other 
things  to  be  attended  to.  The  rector  of  a  parish 
has  much  to  do.  In  the  first  place,  he  must  make 
such  an  agreement  for  tithes  as  may  be  beneficial 
to  himself  and  not  offensive  to  his  patron.  He 
must  write  his  own  sermons;  and  the  time  that 
remains  will  not  be  too  much  for  his  parish  duties, 
and  the  care  and  improvement  of  his  dwelling, 
which  he  cannot  be  excused  from  making  as  com- 
fortable as  possible.  And  I  do  not  think  it  of 
light  importance  that  he  should  have  attentive  and 
conciliatory  manners  towards  everybody,  especiall}'' 
towards  those  to  whom  he  owes  his  preferment.  I 
cannot  acquit  him  of  that  duty;  nor  could  I  think 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  153 


well  of  the  man  who  should  omit  an  occasion  of 
testifying  his  respect  towards  anybody  connected 
with  the  family.''  And  with  a  bow  to  Mr.  Darcy, 
he  concluded  his  speech,  which  had  been  spoken 
so  loud  as  to  be  heard  by  half  the  room.  Many 
stared,  many  smiled;  but  no  one  looked  more 
amused  than  Mr.  Bennet  himself,  while  his  wife 
seriously  commended  Mr.  Collins  for  having  spoken 
so  sensibly,  and  observed,  in  a  half-whisper  to 
Lady  Lucas,  that  he  was  a  remarkably  clever, 
good  kind  of  young  man. 

To  Elizabeth  it  appeared  that  had  her  family 
made  an  agreement  to  expose  themselves  as  much 
as  they  could  during  the  evening,  it  would  have 
been  impossible  for  them  to  play  their  parts  with 
more  spirit  or  finer  success;  and  happy  did  she 
think  it  for  Bingley  and  her  sister  that  some  of 
the  exhibition  had  escaped  his  notice,  and  that  his 
feelings  were  not  of  a  sort  to  be  much  distressed 
by  the  folly  which  he  must  have  witnessed.  That 
his  two  sisters  and  Mr.  Darcy,  however,  should 
have  such  an  opportunity  of  ridiculing  her  rela- 
tions was  bad  enough;  and  she  could  not  deter- 
mine whether  the  silent  contempt  of  the  gentleman 
or  the  insolent  smiles  of  the  ladies  were  more 
intolerable. 

The  rest  of  the  evening  brought  her  little 
amusement.  She  was  teased  by  Mr.  Collins,  who 
continued  most  perseveringly  by  her  side;  and 


154 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


though  lie  could  not  prevail  with  her  to  dance 
with  him  again,  put  it  out  of  her  power  to  dance 
with  others.  In  vain  did  she  entreat  him  to  stand 
up  with  somebody  else,  and  offered  to  introduce 
him  to  any  young  lady  in  the  room.  He  assured 
her  that,  as  to  dancing,  he  was  perfectly  indiffer- 
ent to  it  5  that  his  chief  object  was,  by  delicate 
attentions,  to  recommend  himself  to  her;  and  that 
he  should  therefore  make  a  point  of  remaining 
close  to  her  the  whole  evening.  There  was  no 
arguing  upon  such  a  project.  She  owed  her  great- 
est relief  to  her  friend  Miss  Lucas,  who  often 
joined  them,  and  good-naturedly  engaged  Mr. 
Collinses  conversation  to  herself. 

She  was  at  least  free  from  the  offence  of  Mr. 
Darcy's  further  notice;  though  often  standing 
within  a  very  short  distance  of  her,  quite  disen- 
gaged, he  never  came  near  enough  to  speak.  She 
felt  it  to  be  the  probable  consequence  of  her  allu- 
sions to  Mr.  Wickham,  and  rejoiced  in  it. 

The  Longbourn  party  were  the  last  of  all  the 
company  to  depart;  and  by  a  manoeuvre  of  Mrs. 
Bennet  had  to  wait  for  their  carriage  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  after  everybody  else  was  gone,  which  gave 
them  time  to  see  how  heartily  they  were  wished 
away  by  some  of  the  family.  Mrs.  Hurst  and  her 
sister  scarcely  opened  their  mouths  except  to  com- 
plain of  fatigue,  and  were  evidently  impatient  to 
have  the   house  to  themselves.     They  repulsed 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


155 


every  attempt  of  Mrs.  Bennet  at  conversation, 
and,  by  so  doing,  threw  a  languor  over  the  whole 
party,  which  was  very  little  relieved  by  the  long 
speeches  of  Mr.  Collins,  who  was  complimenting 
Mr.  Bingley  and  his  sisters  on  the  elegance  of  their 
entertainment,  and  the  hospitality  and  politeness 
which  had  marked  their  behavior  to  their  guests. 
Darcy  said  nothing  at  all.  Mr.  Bennet,  in  equal 
silence,  was  enjoying  the  scene.  Mr.  Bingley  and 
Jane  were  standing  together  a  little  detached  from 
the  rest,  and  talked  only  to  each  other.  Elizabeth 
preserved  as  steady  a  silence  as  either  Mrs.  Hurst 
or  Miss  Bingley;  and  even  Lydia  was  too  much 
fatigued  to  utter  more  than  the  occasional  excla- 
mation of  ^^Lord,  how  tired  I  am!  accompanied 
by  a  violent  yawn. 

When  at  length  they  arose  to  take  leave,  Mrs. 
Bennet  was  most  pressingly  civil  in  her  hope  of 
seeing  the  whole  family  soon  at  Longbourn;  and 
addressed  herself  particularly  to  Mr.  Bingley,  to 
assure  him  how  happy  he  would  make  them  by  eat- 
ing a  family  dinner  with  them  at  any  time  without 
the  ceremony  of  a  formal  invitation.  Bingley  was 
all  grateful  pleasure;  and  he  readily  engaged  for 
taking  the  earliest  opportunity  of  waiting  on  her, 
after  his  return  from  London,  whither  he  was 
obliged  to  go  the  next  day  for  a  short  time. 

Mrs.  Bennet  was  perfectly  satisfied;  and  quitted 
the  house  under  the  delightful  persuasion  that. 


156 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


allowing  for  the  necessary  preparations  of  settle- 
ments, new  carriages,  and  wedding-clothes,  she 
should  undoubtedly  see  her  daughter  settled  at 
Netherfield  in  the  course  of  three  or  four  months. 
Of  having  another  daughter  married  to  Mr.  Collins 
she  thought  with  equal  certainty,  and  with  consid- 
erable, though  not  equal  pleasure.  Elizabeth  was 
the  least  dear  to  her  of  all  her  children;  and 
though  the  man  and  the  match  were  quite  good 
enough  for  her,  the  worth  of  each  was  eclipsed  by 
Mr.  Bingley  and  Netherfield. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


The  next  day  opened  a  new  scene  at  Longbourn. 
Mr.  Collins  made  his  declaration  in  form.  Hav- 
ing resolved  to  do  it  without  loss  of  time,  as  his 
leave  of  absence  extended  only  to  the  following 
Saturday,  and  having  no  feelings  of  diffidence  to 
make  it  distressing  to  himself  even  at  the  moment, 
he  set  about  it  in  a  very  orderly  manner,  with  all 
the  observances  which  he  supposed  a  regular  part 
of  the  business.  On  finding  Mrs.  Bennet,  Eliza- 
beth, and  one  of  the  younger  girls  together,  soon 
after  breakfast,  he  addressed  the  mother  in  these 
words,  — 

^'May  I  hope,  madam,  for  your  interest  with 
your  fair  daughter  Elizabeth,  when  I  solicit  for 
the  honor  of  a  private  audience  with  her  in  the 
course  of  this  morning? 

Before  Elizabeth  had  time  for  anything  but  a 
blush  of  surprise,  Mrs.  Bennet  instantly  answered : 

^*0h  dear!  Yes,  certainly.  I  am  sure  Lizzy 
will  be  very  happy,  —  I  am  sure  she  can  have  no 
objection.  Come,  Kitty,  I  want  you  upstairs.'' 
And  gathering  her  work  together,  she  was  hasten- 
ing away,  when  Elizabeth  called  out,  — 


158  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Dear  ma'am,  do  not  go.  I  beg  you  will  not 
go.  Mr.  Collins  must  excuse  me.  He  can  have 
nothing  to  say  to  me  that  anybody  need  not  hear. 
I  am  going  away  myself.'' 

*'No,  no,  nonsense,  Lizzy.  I  desire  you  will 
stay  where  you  are."  And  upon  Elizabeth's 
seeming  really,  with  vexed  and  embarrassed  looks, 
about  to  escape,  she  added:  Lizzy,  I  insist  upon 
your  staying  and  hearing  Mr.  Collins." 

Elizabeth  would  not  oppose  such  an  injunction; 
and  a  moment's  consideration  making  her  also  sen- 
sible that  it  would  be  wisest  to  get  it  over  as  soon 
and  as  quietly  as  possible,  she  sat  down  again,  and 
tried  to  conceal  by  incessant  employment  the  feel- 
ings which  were  divided  between  distress  and  di- 
version. Mrs.  Bennet  and  Kitty  walked  off;  and 
as  soon  as  they  were  gone,  Mr.  Collins  began :  — 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Miss  Elizabeth,  that 
your  modesty,  so  far  from  doing  you  any  dis- 
service, rather  adds  to  your  other  perfections. 
You  would  have  been  less  amiable  in  my  eyes  had 
there  not  been  this  little  unwillingness;  but  allow 
me  to  assure  you  that  I  have  your  respected 
mother's  permission  for  this  address.  You  can 
hardly  doubt  the  purport  of  my  discourse,  however 
your  natural  delicacy  may  lead  you  to  dissemble; 
my  attentions  have  been  too  marked  to  be  mis- 
taken. Almost  as  soon  as  I  entered  the  house  I 
singled  you  out  as  the  companion  of  my  future 


1>RI1)E  AND  PREJUDICl:. 


159 


life.  But  before  I  am  run  away  with  by  my  feel- 
ings on  this  subject,  perhaps  it  will  be  advisable 
for  me  to  state  my  reasons  for  marrying  —  and, 
moreover,  for  coming  into  Hertfordshire  with  the 
design  of  selecting  a  wife,  as  I  certainly  did/' 

The  idea  of  Mr.  Collins,  with  all  his  solemn 
composure,  being  run  away  with  by  his  feelings, 
made  Elizabeth  so  near  laughing  that  she  could 
not  use  the  short  pause  he  allowed  in  any  attempt 
to  stop  him  further;  and  he  continued,  — 

^^My  reasons  for  marrying  are,  first,  that  I 
think  it  a  right  thing  for  every  clergyman  in  easy 
circumstances  (like  myself)  to  set  the  example  of 
matrimony  in  his  parish;  secondly,  that  I  am  con- 
vinced it  will  add  very  greatly  to  my  happiness; 
and  thirdly,  which  perhaps  I  ought  to  have  men- 
tioned earlier,  that  it  is  the  particular  advice  and 
recommendation  of  the  very  noble  lady  whom  I 
have  the  honor  of  calling  patroness.  Twice  has 
she  condescended  to  give  me  her  opinion  (unasked 
too!)  on  this  subject;  and  it  was  but  the  very  Sat- 
urday night  before  I  left  Hunsford  —  between  our 
pools  at  quadrille,  while  Mrs.  Jenkinson  was  ar- 
ranging Miss  de  Bourgh's  footstool  —  that  she 
said,  ^  Mr.  Collins,  you  must  marry.  A  clergyman 
like  you  must  marry.  Choose  properly,  —  choose  a 
gentlewoman,  for  my  sake  and  for  your  own;  let 
her  be  an  active,  useful  sort  of  person,  not  brought 
up  high,  but  able  to  make  a  small  income  go  a 


160  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


good  way.  This  is  my  advice.  Find  such  a 
woman  as  soon  as  you  can,  bring  her  to  Hunsford, 
and  I  will  visit  her.'  Allow  me,  by  the  way,  to 
observe,  my  fair  cousin,  that  I  do  not  reckon  the 
notice  and  kindness  of  Lady  Catherine  de  Bourgh 
as  among  the  least  of  the  advantages  in  my  power 
to  offer.  You  will  find  her  manners  beyond  any- 
thing I  can  describe;  and  your  wit  and  vivacity 
I  think  must  be  acceptable  to  her,  especially 
when  tempered  with  the  silence  and  respect  which 
her  rank  will  inevitably  excite.  Thus  much  for 
my  general  intention  in  favor  of  matrimony;  it  re- 
mains to  be  told  why  my  views  were  directed  to 
Longbourn  instead  of  my  own  neighborhood,  where 
I  assure  you  there  are  many  amiable  young  women. 
But  the  fact  is  that,  being,  as  I  am,  to  inherit  this 
estate  after  the  death  of  your  honored  father  (who, 
however,  may  live  many  years  longer),  I  could  not 
satisfy  myself  without  resolving  to  choose  a  wife 
from  among  his  daughters,  that  the  loss  to  them 
might  be  as  little  as  possible  when  the  melancholy 
event  takes  place,  which,  however,  as  I  have  already 
said,  may  not  be  for  several  years.  This  has  been 
my  motive,  my  fair  cousin,  and  I  flatter  myself  it 
will  not  sink  me  in  your  esteem.  And  now  noth- 
ing remains  for  me  but  to  assure  you  in  the  most 
animated  language  of  the  violence  of  my  affection. 
To  fortune  I  am  perfectly  indifferent,  and  shall 
make  no  demand  of  that  nature  on  your  father, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  16l 


since  I  am  well  aware  that  it  could  not  be  com- 
plied with;  and  that  one  thousand  pounds  in  the 
four  per  cents,  which  will  not  be  yours  till  after 
your  mother's  decease,  is  all  that  you  may  ever  be 
entitled  to.  On  that  head,  therefore,  I  shall  be 
uniformly  silent ;  and  you  may  assure  yourself  that 
no  ungenerous  reproach  shall  ever  pass  my  lips 
when  we  are  married.'' 

It  was  absolutely  necessary  to  interrupt  him  now. 
You  are  too  hasty,  sir,"  she  cried.  *^You 
forget  that  I  have  made  no  answer.  Let  me  do  it 
without  further  loss  of  time.  Accept  my  thanks 
for  the  compliment  you  are  paying  me.  I  am  very 
sensible  of  the  honor  of  your  proposals,  but  it  is  im- 
possible for  me  to  do  otherwise  than  decline  them." 

^^I  am  not  now  to  learn,"  replied  Mr.  Collins, 
with  a  formal  wave  of  the  hand,  that  it  is  usual 
with  young  ladies  to  reject  the  addresses  of  the 
man  whom  they  secretly  mean  to  accept,  when  he 
first  applies  for  their  favor;  and  that  sometimes 
the  refusal  is  repeated  a  second  or  even  a  third 
time.  I  am,  therefore,  by  no  means  discouraged 
by  what  you  have  just  said,  and  shall  hope  to  lead 
you  to  the  altar  erelong." 

Upon  my  word,  sir,"  cried  Elizabeth,  ^^your 
hope  is  rather  an  extraordinary  one  after  my  dec- 
laration. I  do  assure  you  that  I  am  not  one  of 
those  young  ladies  (if  such  young  ladies  there  are) 
who  are  so  daring  as  to  risk  their  happiness  on  the 

VOL.  I.  — 11 


162  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


chance  of  being  asked  a  second  time.  I  am  per- 
fectly serious  in  my  refusal.  You  could  not  make 
me  happy,  and  I  am  convinced  that  I  am  the  last 
woman  in  the  world  who  would  make  you  so. 
N"ay,  were  your  friend  Lady  Catherine  to  know 
me,  I  am  persuaded  she  would  find  me  in  every  re- 
spect ill  qualified  for  the  situation." 

Were  it  certain  that  Lady  Catherine  would 
think  so,''  said  Mr.  Collins,  very  gravely,  —  ^^but 
I  cannot  imagine  that  her  Ladyship  would  at  all 
disapprove  of  you.  And  you  may  be  certain  that 
when  I  have  the  honor  of  seeing  her  again  I  shall 
speak  in  the  highest  terms  of  your  modesty, 
economy,  and  other  amiable  qualifications.'' 

^^Lideed,  Mr.  Collins,  all  praise  of  me  will  be 
unnecessary.  You  must  give  me  leave  to  judge 
for  myself,  and  pay  me  the  compliment  of  believing 
what  I  say.  I  wish  you  very  happy  and  very  rich, 
and  by  refusing  your  hand,  do  all  in  my  power  to 
prevent  your  being  otherwise.  In  making  me  the 
offer,  you  must  have  satisfied  the  delicacy  of  your 
feelings  with  regard  to  my  family,  and  may  take 
possession  of  Longbourn  estate  whenever  it  falls, 
without  any  self-reproach.  This  matter  may  be 
considered,  therefore,  as  finally  settled."  And 
rising  as  she  thus  spoke,  she  would  have  quitted 
the  room,  had  not  Mr.  Collins  thus  addressed  her : 

'^When  I  do  myself  the  honor  of  speaking  to 
you  next  on  the  subject,  I  shall  hope  to  receive  a 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  163 


more  favorable  answer  than  you  have  now  given 
me;  though  I  am  far  from  accusing  you  of  cruelty 
at  present,  because  I  know  it  to  be  the  established 
custom  of  your  sex  to  reject  a  man  on  the  first  ap- 
plication, and  perhaps  you  have  even  now  said  as 
much  to  encourage  my  suit  as  would  be  consistent 
with  the  true  delicacy  of  the  female  character.'' 

^^Keally,  Mr.  Collins,''  cried  Elizabeth,  with 
some  warmth,  ^^you  puzzle  me  exceedingly.  If 
what  I  have  hitherto  said  can  appear  to  you  in  the 
form  of  encouragement,  I  know  not  how  to  express 
my  refusal  in  such  a  way  as  may  convince  you  of 
its  being  one." 

You  must  give  me  leave  to  flatter  myself,  my 
dear  cousin,  that  your  refusal  of  my  addresses  are 
merely  words  of  course.  My  reasons  for  believing 
it  are  briefly  these:  It  does  not  appear  to  me 
that  my  hand  is  unworthy  your  acceptance,  or  that 
the  establishment  I  can  offer  would  be  any  other 
than  highly  desirable.  My  situation  in  life,  my 
connections  with  the  family  of  De  Bourgh,  and 
my  relationship  to  your  own  are  circumstances 
highly  in  my  favor;  and  you  should  take  it  into 
further  consideration,  that,  in  spite  of  your  mani- 
fold attractions,  it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  an- 
other offer  of  marriage  may  ever  be  made  you. 
Your  portion  is  unhappily  so  small  that  it  will  in 
all  likelihood  undo  the  effects  of  your  loveliness 
and  amiable  qualifications.    As  I  must  therefore 


164  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


conclude  that  you  are  not  serious  in  your  rejection 
of  me,  I  shall  choose  to  attribute  it  to  your  wish  of 
increasing  my  love  by  suspense,  according  to  the 
usual  practice  of  elegant  females. 

'^I  do  assure  you,  sir,  that  I  have  no  preten- 
sions whatever  to  that  kind  of  elegance  which  con- 
sists in  tormenting  a  respectable  man.  I  would 
rather  be  paid  the  compliment  of  being  believed 
sincere.  I  thank  you  again  and  again  for  the 
honor  you  have  done  me  in  your  proposals,  but  to 
accept  them  is  absolutely  impossible.  My  feelings 
in  every  respect  forbid  it.  Can  I  speak  plainer? 
Do  not  consider  me  now  as  an  elegant  female  in- 
tending to  plague  you,  but  as  a  rational  creature 
speaking  the  truth  from  her  heart.'' 

You  are  uniformly  charming!  ''  cried  he,  with 
an  air  of  awkward  gallantry ;  ^  ^  and  I  am  persuaded 
that,  when  sanctioned  by  the  express  authority  of 
both  your  excellent  parents,  my  proposals  will  not 
fail  of  being  acceptable." 

To  such  perseverance  in  wilful  self-deception 
Elizabeth  would  make  no  reply,  and  immediately 
and  in  silence  withdrew;  determined  that  if  he 
persisted  in  considering  her  repeated  refusals  as 
flattering  encouragement,  to  apply  to  her  father, 
whose  negative  might  be  uttered  in  such  a  manner 
as  must  be  decisive,  and  whose  behavior  at  least 
could  not  be  mistaken  for  the  affectation  and 
coquetry  of  an  elegant  female. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Mr.  Collins  was  not  left  long  to  the  silent  con- 
templation of  his  successful  love;  for  Mrs.  Bennet, 
having  dawdled  about  in  the  vestibule  to  watch 
for  the  end  of  the  conference,  no  sooner  saw  Eliza- 
beth open  the  door  and  with  quick  step  pass  her 
towards  the  staircase,  than  she  entered  the  break- 
fast-room, and  congratulated  both  him  and  herself 
in  warm  terms  on  the  happy  prospect  of  their 
nearer  connection.  Mr.  Collins  received  and  re- 
turned these  felicitations  with  equal  pleasure,  and 
then  proceeded  to  relate  the  particulars  of  their  in- 
terview, with  the  result  of  which  he  trusted  he 
had  every  reason  to  be  satisfied,  since  the  refusal 
which  his  cousin  had  steadfastly  given  him  would 
naturally  flow  from  her  bashful  modesty  and  the 
genuine  delicacy  of  her  character. 

This  information,  however,  startled  Mrs.  Ben- 
net  :  she  would  have  been  glad  to  be  equally  satis- 
fied that  her  daughter  had  meant  to  encourage  him 
by  protesting  against  his  proposals ;  but  she  dared 
not  to  believe  it,  and  could  not  help  saying  so. 

*^But  depend  upon  it,  Mr.  Collins, she  added, 
'*that  Lizzy  shall  be  brought  to  reason.    I  will 


166  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


speak  to  her  about  it  myself  directly.  She  is  a  very 
headstrong,  foolish  girl,  and  does  not  know  her 
own  interest  J  but  I  will  make  her  know  it/' 

Pardon  me  for  interrupting  you,  madam,'' 
cried  Mr.  Collins  j  *^but  if  she  is  really  headstrong 
and  foolish,  I  know  not  w^hether  she  would  alto- 
gether be  a  very  desirable  wife  to  a  man  in  my  sit- 
uation, who  naturally  looks  for  happiness  in  the 
marriage  state.  If  therefore  she  actually  persists 
in  rejecting  my  s-uit,  perhaps  it  were  better  not  to 
force  her  into  accepting  me,  because,  if  liable  to 
such  defects  of  temper,  she  could  not  contribute 
much  to  my  felicity." 

^'Sir,  you  quite  misunderstand  me,"  said  Mrs. 
Bennet,  alarmed.  Lizzy  is  only  headstrong  in 
such  matters  as  these.  In  everything  else  she  is 
as  good-natured  a  girl  as  ever  lived.  I  will  go 
directly  to  Mr.  Bennet,  and  we  shall  very  soon 
settle  it  with  her,  I  am  sure." 

She  would  not  give  him  time  to  reply,  but 
hurrying  instantly  to  her  husband,  called  out,  as 
she  entered  the  library,  — 

^^Oh,  Mr.  Bennet,  you  are  wanted  immediately; 
we  are  all  in  an  uproar.  You  must  come  and 
make  Lizzy  marry  Mr.  Collins,  for  she  vows  she 
will  not  have  himj  and  if  you  do  not  make  haste, 
he  will  change  his  mind  and  not  have  her." 

Mr.  Bennet  raised  his  eyes  from  his  book  as  she 
entered,  and  fixed  them  on  her  face  with  a  calm 


PEIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


167 


unconcern  which  was  not  in  the  least  altered  by 
her  communication. 

have  not  the  pleasure  of  understanding 
you,"  said  he,  when  she  had  finished  her  speech. 
*^0f  what  are  you  talking?" 

^'  Of  Mr.  Collins  and  Lizzy.  Lizzy  declares 
she  will  not  have  Mr.  Collins,  and  Mr.  Collins 
begins  to  say  that  he  will  not  have  Lizzy." 

*'And  what  am  I  to  do  on  the  occasion?  It 
seems  a  hopeless  business." 

Speak  to  Lizzy  about  it  yourself.  Tell  her 
that  you  insist  upon  her  marrying  him." 

Let  her  be  called  down.  She  shall  hear  my 
opinion." 

Mrs.  Bennet  rang  the  bell,  and  Miss  Elizabeth 
was  summoned  to  the  library. 

^^Come  here,  child,"  cried  her  father,  as  she 
appeared.  ^'  I  have  sent  for  you  on  an  affair  of 
importance.  I  understand  that  Mr.  Collins  has 
made  you  an  offer  of  marriage.  Is  it  true?  " 
Elizabeth  replied  that  it  was.  ^^Very  well, — 
and  this  offer  of  marriage  you  have  refused?" 
I  have,  sir." 

^^Very  well.  We  now  come  to  the  point. 
Your  mother  insists  upon  your  accepting  it.  Is 
it  not  so,  Mrs.  Bennet?  " 

Yes,  or  I  will  never  see  her  again." 

'^An  unhappy  alternative  is  before  you,  Eliza- 
beth.   Erom  this  day  you  must  be  a  stranger  to 


168 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


one  of  your  parents.  Your  mother  will  never  see 
you  again  if  you  do  not  marry  Mr.  Collins,  and  I 
will  never  see  you  again  if  you  do.'' 

Elizabeth  could  not  but  smile  at  such  a  con- 
clusion of  such  a  beginning;  but  Mrs.  Bennet, 
who  had  persuaded  herself  that  her  husband  re- 
garded the  affair  as  she  wished,  was  excessively 
disappointed. 

What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Bennet,  by  talking  in 
this  way?  You  promised  me  to  insist  upon  her 
marrying  him.'' 

^^My  dear,"  replied  her  husband,  ^'I  have  two 
small  favors  to  request:  First,  that  you  will 
allow  me  the  free  use  of  my  understanding  on 
the  present  occasion;  and,  secondly,  of  my  room. 
I  shall  be  glad  to  have  the  library  to  myself  as 
soon  as  may  be." 

Not  yet,  however,  in  spite  of  her  disappoint- 
ment in  her  husband,  did  Mrs.  Bennet  give  up  the 
point.  She  talked  to  Elizabeth  again  and  again; 
coaxed  and  threatened  her  by  turns.  She  endeav- 
ored to  secure  Jane  in  her  interest;  but  Jane, 
with  all  possible  mildness,  declined  interfering; 
and  Elizabeth  sometimes  with  real  earnestness  and 
sometimes  with  playful  gayety,  replied  to  her  at- 
tacks. Though  her  manner  varied,  however,  her 
determination  never  did. 

Mr.  Collins,  meanwhile,  was  meditating  in  soli- 
tude on  what  had  passed.    He  thought  too  well  of 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


169 


himself  to  comprehend  on  what  motive  his  cousin 
could  refuse  him ;  and  though  his  pride  was  hurt, 
he  suffered  in  no  other  way.  His  regard  for  her 
was  quite  imaginary;  and  the  possibility  of  her 
deserving  her  mother's  reproach  prevented  his 
feeling  any  regret. 

While  the  family  were  in  this  confusion,  Char- 
lotte Lucas  came  to  spend  the  day  with  them. 
She  was  met  in  the  vestibule  by  Lydia,  who,  flying 
to  her,  cried  in  a  half -whisper :  ^^I  am  glad  you 
are  come,  for  there  is  such  fun  here!  What  do 
you  think  has  happened  this  morning?  Mr.  Col- 
lins has  made  an  offer  to  Lizzy,  and  she  will  not 
have  him.'' 

Charlotte  had  hardly  time  to  answer  before  they 
were  joined  by  Kitty,  who  came  to  tell  the  same 
news;  and  no  sooner  had  they  entered  the  break- 
fast-room, where  Mrs.  Bennet  was  alone,  than  she 
likewise  began  on  the  subject,  calling  on  Miss 
Lucas  for  her  compassion,  and  entreating  her  to 
persuade  her  friend  Lizzy  to  comply  with  the 
wishes  of  all  her  family.  ^^Pray  do,  my  dear 
Miss  Lucas,"  she  added,  in  a  melancholy  tone; 
^^for  nobody  is  on  my  side,  nobody  takes  part  with 
me.  I  am  cruelly  used;  nobody  feels  for  my  poor 
nerves." 

Charlotte's  reply  was  spared  by  the  entrance  oi 
Jane  and  Elizabeth. 

'^Ay,  there  she  comes,"  continued  Mrs.  Bennet, 


170 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


looking  as  unconcerned  as  may  be,  and  caring 
no  more  for  us  than  if  we  were  at  York,  provided 
she  can  have  her  own  way.  But  I  tell  you  what. 
Miss  Lizzy,  if  you  take  it  into  your  head  to  go  on 
refusing  every  offer  of  marriage  in  this  way,  you 
will  never  get  a  husband  at  all,  —  and  I  am  sure  I 
do  not  know  who  is  to  maintain  you  when  your 
father  is  dead.  I  shall  not  be  able  to  keep  you,  — 
and  so  I  warn  you.  I  have  done  with  you  from 
this  very  day.  I  told  you  in  the  library,  you 
know,  that  I  should  never  speak  to  you  again,  and 
you  will  find  me  as  good  as  my  word.  I  have  no 
pleasure  in  talking  to  undutiful  children.  'Not 
that  I  have  much  pleasure,  indeed,  in  talking  to 
anybody.  People  who  suffer  as  I  do  from  nervous 
complaints  can  have  no  great  inclination  for  talk- 
ing. Nobody  can  tell  what  I  suffer!  But  it  is 
always  so.  Those  who  do  not  complain  are  never 
pitied.'' 

Her  daughters  listened  in  silence  to  this  effu- 
sion, sensible  that  any  attempt  to  reason  with  or 
soothe  her  would  only  increase  the  irritation.  She 
talked  on,  therefore,  without  interruption  from 
any  of  them  till  they  were  joined  by  Mr.  Collins, 
who  entered  with  an  air  more  stately  than  usual, 
and  on  perceiving  whom,  she  said  to  the  girls,  — 
Now  I  do  insist  upon  it  that  you,  all  of  you, 
hold  your  tongues,  and  let  Mr.  Collins  and  me 
have  a  little  conversation  together.'' 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


171 


Elizabeth  passed  quietly  out  of  the  room,  Jane 
and  Kitty  followed,  but  Lydia  stood  her  ground, 
determined  to  hear  all  she  could;  and  Charlotte, 
detained  first  by  the  civility  of  Mr.  Collins,  whose 
inquiries  after  herself  and  all  her  family  were  very 
minute,  and  then  by  a  little  curiosity,  satisfied 
herself  with  walking  to  the  window  and  pretend- 
ing not  to  hear.  In  a  doleful  voice  Mrs.  Bennet 
thus  began  the  projected  conversation:  — 

'^Oh,  Mr.  Collins. 

'^My  dear  madam,''  replied  he,  'Met  us  be  for- 
ever silent  on  this  point.  Par  be  it  from  me,''  he 
presently  continued,  in  a  voice  that  marked  his 
displeasure,  '*to  resent  the  behavior  of  your 
daughter.  Eesignation  to  inevitable  evils  is  the 
duty  of  us  all,  —  the  peculiar  duty  of  a  young  man 
who  has  been  so  fortunate  as  I  have  been,  in  early 
preferment ;  and  I  trust  I  am  resigned.  Perhaps 
not  the  less  so  from  feeling  a  doubt  of  my  positive 
happiness  had  my  fair  cousin  honored  me  with  her 
hand  J  for  I  have  often  observed  that  resignation 
is  never  so  perfect  as  when  the  blessing  denied 
begins  to  lose  somewhat  of  its  value  in  our  estima- 
tion. You  will  not,  I  hope,  consider  me  as  show- 
ing any  disrespect  to  your  family,  my  dear  madam, 
by  thus  withdrawing  my  pretensions  to  your  daugh- 
ter's favor,  without  having  paid  yourself  and  Mr. 
Bennet  the  compliment  of  requesting  you  to  inteiv 
pose  your  authority  in  my  behalf.    My  conduct 


172  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


may,  I  fear,  be  objectionable  in  having  accepted 
my  dismission  from  your  daughter's  lips  instead  of 
your  own;  but  we  are  all  liable  to  error.  I  have 
certainly  meant  well  through  the  whole  affair. 
My  object  has  been  to  secure  an  amiable  com- 
panion for  myself,  with  due  consideration  for  the 
advantage  of  all  your  family;  and  if  my  manner 
has  been  at  all  reprehensible,  I  here  beg  leave  to 
apologize.'' 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


The  discussion  of  Mr.  Collinses  offer  was  now 
nearly  at  an  end,  and  Elizabeth  had  only  to  suffer 
from  the  uncomfortable  feelings  necessarily  attend- 
ing it,  and  occasionally  from  some  peevish  allusion 
of  her  mother.  As  for  the  gentleman  himself,  his 
feelings  were  chiefly  expressed,  not  by  embarrass- 
ment or  dejection,  or  by  trying  to  avoid  her,  but 
by  stiffness  of  manner,  and  resentful  silence.  He 
scarcely  ever  spoke  to  her;  and  the  assiduous  at- 
tentions which  he  had  been  so  sensible  of  himself 
were  transferred  for  the  rest  of  the  day  to  Miss 
Lucas,  whose  civility  in  listening  to  him  was  a 
seasonable  relief  to  them  all,  and  especially  to 
her  friend. 

The  morrow  produced  no  abatement  of  Mrs. 
Bennet's  ill  humor  or  ill  health.  Mr.  Collins 
was  also  in  the  same  state  of  angry  pride.  Eliza- 
beth had  hoped  that  his  resentment  might  shorten 
his  visit,  but  his  plan  did  not  appear  in  the  least 
affected  by  it.  He  was  always  to  have  gone  on 
Saturday,  and  to  Saturday  he  still  meant  to  stay. 

After  breakfast  the  girls  walked  to  Meryton,  to 
inquire  if  Mr.  Wickham  were  returned,  and  to  la* 


174  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


ment  over  his  absence  from  the  Netherfield  ball. 
He  joined  them  on  their  entering  the  town,  and 
attended  them  to  their  aunt's,  where  his  regret 
and  vexation  and  the  concern  of  ever^^body  were 
well  talked  over.  To  Elizabeth,  however,  he  vol- 
untarily acknowledged  that  the  necessity  of  his 
absence  had  been  self-imposed. 

^'I  found,"  said  he,  ^^as  the  time  drew  near, 
that  I  had  better  not  meet  Mr.  Darcy;  that  to 
be  in  the  same  room,  the  same  party  with  him  for 
so  many  hours  together,  might  be  more  than  I 
could  bear,  and  that  scenes  might  arise  unpleasant 
to  more  than  myself." 

She  highly  approved  his  forbearance;  and  they 
had  leisure  for  a  full  discussion  of  it,  and  for  all 
the  commendations  which  they  civilly  bestowed  on 
each  other,  as  Wickham  and  another  officer  walked 
back  with  them  to  Longbourn ;  and  during  the  walk 
he  particularly  attended  to  her.  His  accompany- 
ing them  was  a  double  advantage :  she  felt  all  the 
compliment  it  offered  to  herself;  and  it  was  most 
acceptable  as  an  occasion  of  introducing  him  to 
her  father  and  mother. 

Soon  after  their  return  a  letter  was  delivered  to 
Miss  Bennet:  it  came  from  Netherfield,  and  was 
opened  immediately.  The  envelope  contained  a 
sheet  of  elegant,  little,  hot-pressed  paper,  well 
covered  with  a  lady's  fair,  flowing  hand;  and 
Elizabeth  saw  her  sister's  countenance  change  as 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


175 


she  read  it,  and  saw  her  dwelling  intently  on  some 
particular  passages.  Jane  recollected  herself  soon, 
and  putting  the  letter  away,  tried  to  join  with  her 
usual  cheerfulness  in  the  general  conversation; 
hut  Elizabeth  felt  an  anxiety  on  the  subject  which 
drew  off  her  attention  even  from  Wickham;  and 
no  sooner  had  he  and  his  companion  taken  leave, 
than  a  glance  from  Jane  invited  her  to  follow  her 
upstairs.  When  they  had  gained  their  own  room, 
Jane,  taking  out  her  letter,  said;  ^^This  is  from 
Caroline  Bingley;  what  it  contains  has  surprised 
me  a  good  deal.  The  whole  party  have  left  Neth- 
erfield  by  this  time,  and  are  on  their  way  to  town, 
and  without  any  intention  of  coming  back  again. 
You  shall  hear  what  she  says.'' 

She  then  read  the  first  sentence  aloud,  which 
comprised  the  information  of  their  having  just  re- 
solved to  follow  their  brother  to  town  directly,  and 
of  their  meaning  to  dine  that  day  in  Grosvenor 
Street,  where  Mr.  Hurst  had  a  house.  The  next 
was  in  these  words :  — 

"  I  do  not  pretend  to  regret  anything  I  shall  leave  in 
Hertfordshire  except  your  society,  my  dearest  friend ; 
but  we  will  hope  at  some  future  period  to  enjoy  many  re- 
turns of  that  delightful  intercourse  we  have  known,  and 
in  the  mean  while  may  lessen  the  pain  of  separation  by  a 
very  frequent  and  most  unreserved  correspondence.  I 
depend  on  you  for  that." 

To  these  high-flown  expressions  Elizabeth  lis- 
tened with  all  the  insensibility  of  distrust;  and 


176  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


though  the  suddenness  of  their  removal  surprised 
her,  she  saw  nothing  in  it  really  to  lament :  it  was 
not  to  be  supposed  that  their  absence  from  Nether 
field  would  prevent  Mr.  Bingley's  being  there ;  and 
as  to  the  loss  of  their  society,  she  was  persuaded 
that  Jane  must  soon  cease  to  regard  it  in  the  en- 
joyment of  his. 

^^It  is  unlucky,"  said  she,  after  a  short  pause, 
^Hhat  you  should  not  be  able  to  see  your  friends 
before  they  leave  the  country.  But  may  we  not 
hope  that  the  period  of  future  happiness  to  which 
Miss  Bingley  looks  forward  may  arrive  earlier 
than  she  is  aware,  and  that  the  delightful  inter- 
course you  have  known  as  friends  will  be  renewed 
with  yet  greater  satisfaction  as  sisters?  Mr.  Bing- 
Jey  will  not  be  detained  in  London  by  them." 

Caroline  decidedly  says  that  none  of  the  party 
will  return  into  Hertfordshire  this  winter.  I  will 
read  it  to  you." 

"When  my  brother  left  us  yesterday,  he  imagined  that 
the  business  which  took  him  to  London  might  be  con- 
cluded in  three  or  four  days;  but  as  we  are  certain  it 
cannot  be  so,  and  at  the  same  time  convinced  that  when 
Charles  gets  to  town  he  will  be  in  no  hurry  to  leave  it 
again,  we  have  determined  on  following  him  thither,  that 
he  may  not  be  obliged  to  spend  his  vacant  hours  in  a 
comfortless  hotel.  Many  of  my  acquaintance  are  already 
there  for  the  winter :  I  wish  I  could  hear  that  you,  my 
dearest  friend,  had  any  intention  of  making  one  in  the 
crowd ;  but  of  that  I  despair.  1  sincerely  hope  your 
Christmas  in  Hertfordshire  may  abound  in  the  gayetiea 


A  .^7 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE 


PART  PIRST 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


177 


which  that  season  generally  brings,  and  that  your  beaux 
will  be  so  numerous  as  to  prevent  your  feeling  the  loss  of 
the  three  of  whom  we  shall  deprive  you." 

'^It  is  evident  by  this/'  added  Jane,  '^that  he 
comes  back  no  more  this  winter. 

It  is  only  evident  that  Miss  Bingley  does  not 
mean  he  should.'' 

Why  will  you  think  so?  It  must  be  his  own 
doing;  he  is  his  own  master.  But  you  do  not 
know  all.  I  will  read  you  the  passage  which  par- 
ticularly hurts  me.  I  will  have  no  reserves  from 
you." 

"  Mr.  Darcy  is  impatient  to  see  his  sister ;  and  to  con- 
fess the  truth,  we  are  scarcely  less  eager  to  meet  her 
again.  I  really  do  not  think  Georgiana  Darcy  has  her 
equal  for  beauty,  elegance,  and  accomplishments ;  and 
the  affection  she  inspires  in  Louisa  and  myself  is  height- 
ened into  something  still  more  interesting  from  the  hope 
we  dare  to  entertain  of  her  being  hereafter  our  sister.  I 
do  not  know  whether  I  ever  before  mentioned  to  you  my 
feelings  on  this  subject,  but  I  will  not  leave  the  country 
without  confiding  them,  and  I  trust  you  will  not  esteem 
them  unreasonable.  My  brother  admires  her  greatly  al- 
ready ;  he  will  have  frequent  opportunity  now  of  seeing 
her  on  the  most  intimate  footing ;  her  relations  all  wish 
the  connection  as  much  as  his  own ;  and  a  sister's  par- 
tiality is  not  misleading  me,  I  think,  when  I  call  Charles 
most  capable  of  engaging  any  woman's  heart.  With  all 
these  circumstances  to  favor  an  attachment,  and  nothing 
to  prevent  it,  am  I  wrong,  my  dearest  Jane,  in  indulging 
the  hope  of  an  event  which  will  secure  the  happiness  of 
,  80  many?" 

VOL.  I.  — 12 


178  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


^^What  think  you  of  this  sentence,  my  dear 
Lizzy?''  said  Jane,  as  she  finished  it.  ^^Is  it 
not  clear  enough?  Does  it  not  expressly  declare 
that  Caroline  neither  expects  nor  wishes  me  to  be 
her  sister;  that  she  is  perfectly  convinced  of  her 
brother's  indifference;  and  that  if  she  suspects  the 
nature  of  my  feelings  for  him,  she  means  (most 
kindly ! )  to  put  me  on  my  guard.  Can  there  be 
any  other  opinion  on  the  subject?  " 

^^Yes,  there  can;  for  mine  is  totally  different. 
Will  you  hear  it?" 

^'Most  willingly." 
You  shall  have  it  in  a  few  words.  Miss  Bingley 
sees  that  her  brother  is  in  love  with  you,  and 
w^ants  him  to  marry  Miss  Darcy.  She  follows  him 
to  town  in  the  hope  of  keeping  him  there,  and 
tries  to  persuade  you  that  he  does  not  care  about 
you." 

Jane  shook  her  head. 

Indeed,  Jane,  you  ought  to  believe  me.  No 
one  who  has  ever  seen  you  together  can  doubt  his 
affection;  Miss  Bingley,  I  am  sure,  cannot:  she 
is  not  such  a  simpleton.  Could  she  have  seen 
half  as  much  love  in  Mr.  Darcy  for  herself,  she 
would  have  ordered  her  wedding-clothes.  But  the 
case  is  this:  we  are  not  rich  enough  or  grand 
enough  for  them;  and  she  is  the  more  anxious  to 
get  Miss  Darcy  for  her  brother,  from  the  notion 
that  when  there  has  been  one  intermarriage,  she 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  179 


may  have  less  trouble  in  achieving  a  second;  in 
which  there  is  certainly  some  ingenuity,  and  T 
dare  say  it  would  succeed  if  Miss  de  Bourgh  were 
out  of  the  wa3^  But,  my  dearest  Jane,  you  can- 
not seriously  imagine  that  because  Miss  Bingley 
tells  you  her  brother  greatly  admires  Miss  Darcy, 
he  is  in  the  smallest  degree  less  sensible  of  your 
merit  than  when  he  took  leave  of  you  on  Tuesday ; 
or  that  it  will  be  in  her  power  to  persuade  him 
that  instead  of  being  in  love  with  you,  he  is  very 
much  in  love  with  her  friend." 

*^If  we  thought  alike  of  Miss  Bingley,'^  replied 
Jane,  ^^your  representation  of  all  this  might  make 
me  quite  easy.  But  I  know  the  foundation  is 
unjust.  Caroline  is  incapable  of  wilfully  deceiv- 
ing any  one;  and  all  that  I  can  hope  in  this  case 
is  that  she  is  deceived  herself." 

That  is  right.  You  could  not  have  started  a 
more  'happy  idea,  since  you  will  not  take  comfort 
in  mine :  believe  her  to  be  deceived,  by  all  means. 
You  have  now  done  your  duty  by  her,  and  must 
fret  no  longer." 

*^But,  my  dear  sister,  can  I  be  happy,  even 
supposing  the  best,  in  accepting  a  man  whose 
sisters  and  friends  are  all  wishing  him  to  marry 
elsewhere?  " 

You  must  decide  for  yourself,"  said  Elizabeth; 
*^and  if  upon  mature  deliberation  you  find  that 
the  misery  of  disobliging  his  two  sisters  is  more 


180  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


than  equivalent  to  the  happiness  of  heing  his 
wife,  I  advise  you  by  all  means  to  refuse  him." 

^^How  can  you  talk  so?''  said  Jane,  faintly 
smiling;  ^^you  must  know  that  though  I  should 
be  exceedingly  grieved  at  their  disapprobation,  I 
could  not  hesitate." 

^^Idid  not  think  you  would;  and  that  being 
the  case,  I  cannot  consider  your  situation  with 
much  compassion." 

^'But  if  he  returns  no  more  this  winter,  my 
choice  will  never  be  required.  A  thousand  things 
may  arise  in  six  months." 

The  idea  of  his  returning  no  more  Elizabeth 
treated  with  the  utmost  contempt.  It  appeared  to 
her  merely  the  suggestion  of  Caroline's  interested 
wishes;  and  she  could  not  for  a  moment  suppose 
that  those  wishes,  however  openly  or  artfully 
spoken,  could  influence  a  young  man  so  totally 
independent  of  every  one. 

She  represented  to  her  sister,  as  forcibly  as  pos- 
sible, what  she  felt  on  the  subject,  and  had  soon 
the  pleasure  of  seeing  its  happy  effect.  Jane's 
temper  was  not  desponding ;  and  she  was  gradually 
led  to  hope,  though  the  diffidence  of  affection 
sometimes  overcame  the  hope,  that  Bingley  would 
return  to  Netherfield,  and  answer  every  wish  of 
her  heart. 

They  agreed  that  Mrs.  Bennet  should  only  hear 
of  the  departure  of  the  family,  without  being 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  181 


alarmed  on  the  score  of  the  gentleman's  conduct; 
but  even  this  partial  communication  gave  her  a 
great  deal  of  concern,  and  she  bewailed  it  as  ex- 
ceedingly unlucky  that  the  ladies  should  happen 
to  go  away  just  as  they  were  all  getting  so  inti- 
mate together.  After  lamenting  it,  however,  at 
some  length,  she  had  the  consolation  of  thinking 
that  Mr.  Bingley  would  be  soon  down  again,  and 
soon  dining  at  Longbourn;  and  the  conclusion  of 
all  was  the  comfortable  declaration  that  though 
he  had  been  invited  only  to  a  family  dinner,  she 
would  take  care  to  have  two  full  courses. 


CHAPTEE  XXII. 


The  Bennets  were  engaged  to  dine  witli  the 
Lucases;  and  again,  during  the  chief  of  the  day, 
was  Miss  Lucas  so  kind  as  to  listen  to  Mr.  Collins. 
Elizabeth  took  an  opportunity  of  thanking  her. 
^^It  keeps  him  in  good  humor,"  said  she,  ^^and  I 
am  more  obliged  to  you  than  I  can  express." 
Charlotte  assured  her  friend  of  her  satisfaction  in 
being  useful,  and  that  it  amply  repaid  her  for  the 
little  sacrifice  of  her  time.  This  was  very  ami- 
able; but  Charlotte's  kindness  extended  farther 
than  Elizabeth  had  any  conception  of:  its  object 
was  nothing  less  than  to  secure  her  from  any 
return  of  Mr.  Collins's  addresses,  by  engaging 
them  towards  herself.  Such  was  Miss  Lucas's 
scheme;  and  appearances  were  so  favorable  that 
when  they  parted  at  night,  she  would  have  felt 
almost  sure  of  success  if  he  had  not  been  to  leave 
Hertfordshire  so  very  soon.  But  here  she  did 
injustice  to  the  fire  and  independence  of  his  char- 
acter; for  it  led  him  to  escape  out  of  Longbourn 
House  the  next  morning  with  admirable  slyness, 
and  hasten  to  Lucas  Lodge  to  throw  himself  at 
her  feet.    He  was  anxious  to  avoid  the  notice  of 


PRIDE  AND  PPvEJUDICE. 


183 


his  cousins,  from  a  conviction  that  if  they  saw 
him  depart,  they  could  not  fail  to  conjecture  his 
design,  and  he  was  not  willing  to  have  the  attempt 
known  till  its  success  could  he  known  likewise; 
for  though  feeling  almost  secure,  and  with  reason, 
for  Charlotte  had  heen  tolerably  encouraging,  he 
was  comparatively  diffident  since  the  adventure  of 
Wednesday.  His  reception,  however,  was  of  the 
most  flattering  kind.  Miss  Lucas  perceived  him 
from  an  upper  window  as  he  walked  towards  the 
house,  and  instantly  set  out  to  meet  him  acci- 
dentally in  the  lane.  But  little  had  she  dared  to 
hope  that  so  much  love  and  eloquence  awaited  her 
there. 

In  as  short  a  time  as  Mr.  Collins's  long  speeches 
would  allow,  everything  was  settled  between  them 
to  the  satisfaction  of  both;  and  as  they  entered 
the  house,  he  earnestly  entreated  her  to  name  the 
day  that  was  to  make  him  the  happiest  of  men; 
and  though  such  a  solicitation  must  be  waived 
for  the  present,  the  lady  felt  no  inclination  to 
trifle  with  his  happiness.  The  stupidity  with 
which  he  was  favored  by  nature  must  guard  his 
courtship  from  any  charm  that  could  make  a  woman 
wish  for  its  continuance ;  and  Miss  Lucas,  who  ac- 
cepted him  solely  from  the  pure  and  disinterested 
desire  of  an  establishment,  cared  not  how  soon  that 
establishment  were  gained. 

Sir  William  and  Lady  Lucas  were  speedily  ap- 


184  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


plied  to  for  their  consent;  and  it  was  bestowed 
with  a  most  joyful  alacrity.  Mr.  Collins's  present 
circumstances  made  it  a  most  eligible  match  for 
their  daughter,  to  whom  they  could  give  little  for- 
tune; and  his  prospects  of  future  wealth  were 
exceedingly  fair.  Lady  Lucas  began  directly  to 
calculate,  with  more  interest  than  the  matter  had 
ever  excited  before,  how  many  years  longer  Mr. 
Bennet  was  likely  to  live ;  and  Sir  William  gave  it 
as  his  decided  opinion,  that  whenever  Mr.  Collins 
should  be  in  possession  of  the  Longbourn  estate,  it 
would  be  highly  expedient  that  both  he  and  his 
wife  should  make  their  appearance  at  St.  James's. 
The  whole  family,  in  short,  were  properly  overjoyed 
on  the  occasion.  The  younger  girls  formed  hopes 
of  coming  out  a  year  or  two  sooner  than  they  might 
otherwise  have  done;  and  the  boys  were  relieved 
from  their  apprehension  of  Charlotte's  dying  an 
old  maid.  Charlotte  herself  was  tolerably  com- 
posed. She  had  gained  her  point,  and  had  time 
to  consider  of  it.  Her  reflections  were  in  general 
satisfactory.  Mr.  Collins,  to  be  sure,  ,was  neither 
sensible  nor  agreeable;  his  society  was  irksome, 
and  his  attachment  to  her  must  be  imaginary. 
But  still  he  would  be  her  husband.  Without 
thinking  highly  either  of  men  or  of  matrimony, 
marriage  had  always  been  her  object:  it  was 
the  only  honorable  provision  for  well-educated 
young  women   of   small   fortune,  and,  however 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  185 


uncertain  of  giving  happiness,  must  be  their  pleas- 
antest  preservative  from  want.  This  preserva- 
tive she  had  now  obtained;  and  at  the  age  of 
twenty-seven,  without  having  ever  been  handsome, 
she  felt  all  the  good  luck  of  it.  The  least  agree- 
able circumstance  in  the  business  was  the  surprise 
it  must  occasion  to  Elizabeth  Bennet,  whose 
friendship  she  valued  beyond  that  of  any  other 
person.  Elizabeth  would  wonder,  and  probably 
would  blame  her;  and  though  her  resolution  was 
not  to  be  shaken,  her  feelings  must  be  hurt  by 
such  a  disapprobation.  She  resolved  to  give  her 
the  information  herself;  and  therefore  charged  Mr. 
Collins,  when  he  returned  to  Longbourn  to  dinner, 
to  drop  no  hint  of  what  had  passed  before  any  of 
the  family.  A  promise  of  secrecy  was  of  course 
very  dutifully  given,  but  it  could  not  be  kept 
without  difficulty ;  for  the  curiosity  excited  by  his 
long  absence  burst  forth  in  such  very  direct  ques- 
tions on  his  return  as  required  some  ingenuity  to 
evade,  and  he  was  at  the  same  time  exercising 
great  self-denial,  for  he  was  longing  to  publish  his 
prosperous  love. 

As  he  was  to  begin  his  journey  too  early  on  the 
morrow  to  see  any  of  the  family,  the  ceremony  of 
leave-taking  was  performed  when  the  ladies  moved 
for  the  night;  and  Mrs.  Bennet,  with  great  polite- 
ness and  cordiality,  said  how  happy  they  should 
be  to  see  him  at   Longbourn   again,  whenever 


186 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


his  other  engagements  might  allow  him  to  visit 
them. 

^^My  dear  madam,"  he  replied,  "  this  invitation 
is  particularly  gratifying,  because  it  is  what  I 
have  been  hoping  to  receive;  and  you  may  be  very 
certain  that  I  shall  avail  myself  of  it  as  soon  as 
possible." 

They  were  all  astonished;  and  Mr.  Bennet,  who 
could  by  no  means  wish  for  so  speedy  a  return, 
immediately  said,  — 

^^But  is  there  not  danger  of  Lady  Catherine's 
disapprobation  here,  my  good  sir?  You  had  better 
neglect  your  relations  than  run  the  risk  of  offend- 
ing your  patroness." 

''My  dear  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Collins,  ''I  am 
particularly  obliged  to  you  for  this  friendly  cau- 
tion, and  you  may  depend  upon  my  not  tak- 
ing so  material  a  step  without  her  Ladyship's 
concurrence." 

''You  cannot  be  too  much  on  your  guard.  Bisk 
anything  rather  than  her  displeasure;  and  if  you 
find  it  likely  to  be  raised  by  your  coming  to  us 
again,  which  I  should  think  exceedingly  probable, 
stay  quietly  at  home,  and  be  satisfied  that  we 
shall  take  no  offence." 

"Believe  me,  my  dear  sir,  my  gratitude  is 
warmly  excited  by  such  affectionate  attention; 
and,  depend  upon  it,  you  will  speedily  receive 
from  me  a  letter  of  thanks  for  this  as  well  as  for 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


187 


every  other  mark  of  your  regard  during  my  stay  in 
Hertfordshire.  As  for  my  fair  cousins,  though 
my  absence  may  not  be  long  enough  to  render  it 
necessary,  I  shall  now  take  the  liberty  of  wishing 
them  health  and  happiness,  not  excepting  my 
cousin  Elizabeth." 

With  proper  civilities,  the  ladies  then  withdrew ; 
all  of  them  equally  surprised  to  find  that  he  medi- 
tated a  quick  return.  Mrs.  Bennet  wished  to  un- 
derstand by  it  that  he  thought  of  paying  his  ad- 
dresses to  one  of  her  younger  girls,  and  Mary 
might  have  been  prevailed  on  to  accept  him.  She 
rated  his  abilities  much  higher  than  any  of  the 
others:  there  was  a  solidity  in  his  reflections 
which  often  struck  her;  and  though  by  no  means 
so  clever  as  herself,  she  thought  that  if  encour- 
aged to  read  and  improve  himself  by  such  an  ex- 
ample as  hers,  he  might  become  a  very  agreeable 
companion.  But  on  the  following  morning  every 
hope  of  this  kind  was  done  away.  Miss  Lucas 
called  soon  after  breakfast,  and  in  a  private  con- 
ference with  Elizabeth  related  the  event  of  the 
day  before. 

The  possibility  of  Mr.  Collins's  fancying  himself 
in  love  with  her  friend  had  once  occurred  to  Eliza- 
beth within  the  last  day  or  two ;  but  that  Charlotte 
could  encourage  him  seemed  almost  as  far  from 
possibility  as  that  she  could  encourage  him  herself; 
and  her  astonishment  was  consequently  so  great  as 


188 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


to  overcome  at  first  the  bounds  of  decorum,  and 
she  could  not  help  crying  out,  — 

Engaged  to  Mr.  Collins!  my  dear  Charlotte, 
impossible ! " 

The  steady  countenance  which  Miss  Lucas  had 
commanded  in  telling  her  story  gave  way  to  a 
momentary  confusion  here  on  receiving  so  direct 
a  reproach;  though,  as  it  was  no  more  than  she 
expected,  she  soon  regained  her  composure,  and 
calmly  replied,  — 

*^Why  should  you  be  surprised,  my  dear  Eliza? 
Do  you  think  it  incredible  that  Mr.  Collins  should 
be  able  to  procure  any  woman's  good  opinion,  be- 
cause he  was  not  so  happy  as  to  succeed  with 
you?" 

But  Elizabeth  had  now  recollected  herself;  and 
making  a  strong  effort  for  it,  was  able  to  assure 
her,  with  tolerable  firmness,  that  the  prospect  of 
their  relationship  was  highly  grateful  to  her,  and 
that  she  wished  her  all  imaginable  happiness. 

'^I  see  what  you  are  feeling,"  replied  Charlotte: 
*'you  must  be  surprised,  very  much  surprised,  so 
lately  as  Mr.  Collins  was  wishing  to  marry  you. 
But  when  you  have  had  time  to  think  it  all  over,  I 
hope  you  will  be  satisfied  with  what  I  have  done. 
I  am  not  romantic,  you  know;  I  never  was.  I 
ask  only  a  comfortable  home ;  and  considering  Mr. 
Collins's  character,  connections,  and  situation  in 
life,  I  am  convinced  that  my  chance  of  happiness 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  189 


with  him  is  as  fair  as  most  people  can  boast  on 
entering  the  marriage  state." 

Elizabeth  quietly  answered,  ^^Undoubtedly;" 
and  after  an  awkward  pause  they  returned  to  the 
rest  of  the  family.  Charlotte  did  not  stay  much 
longer;  and  Elizabeth  was  then  left  to  reflect  on 
what  she  had  heard.  It  was  a  long  time  before 
she  became  at  all  reconciled  to  the  idea  of  so  un- 
suitable a  match.  The  strangeness  of  Mr.  Collinses 
making  two  offers  of  marriage  within  three  days 
was  nothing  in  comparison  of  his  being  now  ac- 
cepted. She  had  always  felt  that  Charlotte's  opin- 
ion of  matrimony  was  not  exactly  like  her  own; 
but  she  could  not  have  supposed  it  possible  that 
when  called  into  action,  she  would  have  sacrificed 
every  better  feeling  to  worldly  advantage.  Char- 
lotte the  wife  of  Mr.  Collins  was  a  most  hu- 
miliating picture!  And  to  the  pang  of  a  friend 
disgracing  herself  and  sunk  in  her  esteem,  was 
added  the  distressing  conviction  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  that  friend  to  be  tolerably  happy  in 
the  lot  she  had  chosen. 


CHAPTEE  XXIIL 


Elizabeth  was  sitting  with  her  mother  and 
sisters,  reflecting  on  what  she  had  heard,  and 
doubting  whether  she  was  authorized  to  mention 
it,  when  Sir  William  Lucas  himself  appeared,  sent 
by  his  daughter  to  announce  her  engagement  to 
the  family.  With  manj'-  compliments  to  them, 
and  much  self-gratulation  on  the  prospect  of  a 
connection  between  the  houses,  he  unfolded  the 
matter,  —  to  an  audience  not  merely  wondering, 
but  incredulous :  for  Mrs.  Bennet,  with  more  perse- 
verance than  politeness,  protested  he  must  be  en- 
tirely mistaken;  and  Lydia,  always  unguarded  and 
often  uncivil,  boisterously  exclaimed,  — 

^^Good  Lord!  Sir  William,  how  can  you  tell 
such  a  story?  Do  not  you  know  that  Mr.  Collins 
wants  to  marry  Lizzy?" 

Nothing  less  than  the  complaisance  of  a  courtier 
could  have  borne  without  anger  such  treatment: 
but  Sir  William's  good  breeding  carried  him 
through  it  all;  and  though  he  begged  leave  to  be 
positive  as  to  the  truth  of  his  information,  he 
listened  to  all  their  impertinence  with  the  most 
forbearing  courtesy. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  191 


Elizabeth,  feeling  it  incumbent  on  her  to  relieve 
him  from  so  unpleasant  a  situation,  now  put  her- 
self forward  to  confirm  his  account,  by  mentioning 
her  prior  knowledge  of  it  from  Charlotte  herself; 
and  endeavored  to  put  a  stop  to  the  exclamations 
of  her  mother  and  sisters,  by  the  earnestness  of 
her  congratulations  to  Sir  William,  in  which  she 
was  readily  joined  by  Jane,  and  by  making  a 
variety  of  remarks  on  the  happiness  that  might  be 
expected  from  the  match,  the  excellent  character 
of  Mr.  Collins,  and  the  convenient  distance  of 
Hunsford  from  London. 

Mrs.  Bennet  was,  in  fact,  too  much  overpowered 
to  say  a  great  deal  while  Sir  William  remained; 
but  no  sooner  had  he  left  them  than  her  feelings 
found  a  rapid  vent.  In  the  first  place,  she  per- 
sisted in  disbelieving  the  whole  of  the  matter; 
secondly,  she  was  very  sure  that  Mr.  Collins  had 
been  taken  in;  thirdly,  she  trusted  that  they 
would  never  be  happy  together;  and,  fourthly, 
that  the  match  might  be  broken  off.  Two  infer- 
ences, however,  were  plainly  deduced  from  the 
whole,  —  one,  that  Elizabeth  was  the  real  cause  of 
all  the  mischief;  and  the  other,  that  she  herself 
had  been  barbarously  used  by  them  all,  —  and  on 
these  two  points  she  principally  dwelt  during  the 
rest  of  the  day.  Nothing  could  console  and  noth- 
ing appease  her.  Nor  did  that  day  wear  out  her 
resentment.    A  week  elapsed  before  she  could  see 


192  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Elizabeth  without  scolding  her;  a  month  passed 
away  before  she  could  speak  to  Sir  William  or 
Lady  Lucas  without  being  rude;  and  many  months 
were  gone  before  she  could  at  all  forgive  their 
daughter. 

Mr.  Bennet's  emotions  were  much  more  tran- 
quil on  the  occasion,  and  such  as  he  did  expe- 
rience he  pronounced  to  be  of  a  most  agreeable 
sort;  for  it  gratified  him,  he  said,  to  discover  that 
Charlotte  Lucas,  whom  he  had  been  used  to  think 
tolerably  sensible,  was  as  foolish  as  his  wife, 
and  more  foolish  than  his  daughter! 

Jane  confessed  herself  a  little  surprised  at  the 
match:  but  she  said  less  of  her  astonishment 
than  of  her  earnest  desire  for  their  happiness; 
nor  could  Elizabeth  persuade  her  to  consider  it 
as  improbable.  Kitty  and  Lydia  were  far  from 
envying  Miss  Lucas,  for  Mr.  Collins  was  only  a 
clergyman;  and  it  affected  them  in  no  other  way 
than  as  a  piece  of  news  to  spread  at  Meryton. 

Lady  Lucas  could  not  be  insensible  of  triumph 
on  being  able  to  retort  on  Mrs.  Bennet  the  com- 
fort of  having  a  daughter  well  married;  and  she 
called  at  Longbourn  rather  oftener  than  usual  to 
say  how  happy  she  was,  though  Mrs.  Bennet's 
sour  looks  and  ill-natured  remarks  might  have 
been  enough  to  drive  happiness  away. 

Between  Elizabeth  and  Charlotte  there  was  a 
restraint  which  kept  them  mutually  silent  on  the 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  193 


subject;  and  Elizabeth  felt  persuaded  that  no  real 
confidence  could  ever  subsist  between  them  again. 
Her  disappointment  in  Charlotte  made  her  turn 
with  fonder  regard  to  her  sister,  of  whose  rectitude 
and  delicacy  she  was  sure  her  opinion  could  never 
be  shaken,  and  for  whose  happiness  she  grew 
daily  more  anxious,  as  Bingley  had  now  been  gone 
a  week,  and  nothing  was  heard  of  his  return. 

Jane  had  sent  Caroline  an  early  answer  to  her 
letter,  and  was  counting  the  days  till  she  might 
reasonably  hope  to  hear  again.  The  promised 
letter  of  thanks  from  Mr.  Collins  arrived  on 
Tuesday,  addressed  to  their  father,  and  written 
with  all  the  solemnity  of  gratitude  which  a  twelve- 
month's abode  in  the  family  might  have  prompted. 
After  discharging  his  conscience  on  that  head,  he 
proceeded  to  inform  them,  with  many  rapturous 
expressions,  of  his  happiness  in  having  obtained 
the  affection  of  their  amiable  neighbor.  Miss 
Lucas,  and  then  explained  that  it  was  merely  with 
the  view  of  enjoying  her  society  that  he  had  been 
so  ready  to  close  with  their  kind  wish  of  seeing  him 
again  at  Longbourn,  whither  he  hoped  to  be  able 
to  return  on  Monday  fortnight ;  for  Lady  Catherine, 
he  added,  so  heartily  approved  his  marriage  that 
she  wished  it  to  take  place  as  soon  as  possible, 
which  he  trusted  would  be  an  unanswerable  argu- 
ment with  his  amiable  Charlotte  to  name  an  early 
day  for  making  him  the  happiest  of  men . 

VOL.  I.  — 13 


194  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Mr.  Collinses  return  into  Hertfordshire  was  no 
longer  a  matter  of  pleasure  to  Mrs.  Bennet.  On 
the  contrary,  she  was  as  much  disposed  to  com- 
plain of  it  as  her  husband.  It  was  very  strange 
that  he  should  come  to  Longbourn  instead  of  to 
Lucas  Lodge;  it  was  also  very  inconvenient  and 
exceedingly  troublesome.  She  hated  having  vis- 
itors in  the  house  while  her  health  was  so  indiffer- 
ent, and  lovers  were  of  all  people  the  most  disa- 
greeable. Such  were  the  gentle  murmurs  of  Mrs. 
Bennet,  and  they  gave  way  only  to  the  greater 
distress  of  Mr.  Bingley's  continued  absence. 

Neither  Jane  nor  Elizabeth  was  comfortable 
on  this  subject.  Day  after  day  passed  away  with- 
out bringing  any  other  tidings  of  him  than  the 
report  which  shortly  prevailed  in  Meryton  of  his 
coming  no  more  to  Netherfield  the  whole  winter, — 
a  report  which  highly  incensed  Mrs.  Bennet,  and 
which  she  never  failed  to  contradict  as  a  most 
scandalous  falsehood. 

Even  Elizabeth  began  to  fear,  not  that  Bing- 
ley  was  indifferent,  but  that  his  sisters  would  be 
successful  in  keeping  him  away.  Unwilling  as 
she  was  to  admit  an  idea  so  destructive  of  Jane's 
happiness,  and  so  dishonorable  to  the  stability  of 
her  lover,  she  could  not  prevent  its  frequently 
recurring.  The  united  efforts  of  his  two  unfeeling 
sisters  and  of  his  overpowering  friend,  assisted  by 
khe  attractions  of  Miss  Darcy  and  the  amusements 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  195 


of  London,  might  be  too  much,  she  feared,  for  the 
strength  of  his  attachment. 

As  for  Jane,  her  anxiety  under  this  suspense 
was,  of  course,  more  painful  than  Elizabeth's; 
but  whatever  she  felt  she  was  desirous  of  conceal- 
ing, and  between  herself  and  Elizabeth,  therefore, 
the  subject  was  never  alluded  to.  But  as  no  such 
delicacy  restrained  her  mother,  an  hour  seldom 
passed  in  which  she  did  not  talk  of  Bingley,  ex- 
press her  impatience  for  his  arrival,  or  even  re- 
quire Jane  to  confess  that  if  he  did  not  come  back 
she  should  think  herself  very  ill  used.  It  needed 
all  Jane's  steady  mildness  to  bear  these  attacks 
with  tolerable  tranquillity. 

Mr.  Collins  returned  most  punctually  on  the 
Monday  fortnight;  but  his  reception  at  Longbourn 
was  not  quite  so  gracious  as  it  had  been  on  his 
first  introduction.  He  was  too  happy,  however, 
to  need  much  attention;  and,  luckily  for  the 
others,  the  business  of  love-making  relieved  them 
from  a  great  deal  of  his  company.  The  chief  of 
every  day  was  spent  by  him  at  Lucas  Lodge,  and 
he  sometimes  returned  to  Longbourn  only  in  time 
to  make  an  apology  for  his  absence  before  the 
family  went  to  bed. 

Mrs.  Bennet  was  really  in  a  most  pitiable  state. 
The  very  mention  of  anything  concerning  the 
match  threw  her  into  an  agony  of  ill-humor,  and 
wherever  she  went  she  was  sure  of  hearing  it 


196  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


talked  of.  The  sight  of  Miss  Lucas  was  odious  to 
her.  As  her  successor  in  that  house,  she  regarded 
her  with  jealous  abhorrence.  Whenever  Charlotte 
came  to  see  them,  she  concluded  her  to  be  an- 
ticipating the  hour  of  possession;  and  whenever 
she  spoke  in  a  low  voice  to  Mr.  Collins,  was  con- 
vinced that  they  were  talking  of  the  Longbourn 
estate,  and  resolving  to  turn  herself  and  her  daugh- 
ters out  of  the  house  as  soon  as  Mr.  Bennet  was 
dead.  She  complained  bitterly  of  all  this  to  her 
husband. 

'^Indeed,  Mr.  Bennet,''  said  she,  ^'it  is  very 
hard  to  think  that  Charlotte  Lucas  should  ever  be 
mistress  of  this  house,  that  I  should  be  forced  to 
make  way  for  her,  and  live  to  see  her  take  my 
place  in  it.'' 

*^My  dear,  do  not  give  way  to  such  gloomy 
thoughts.  Let  us  hope  for  better  things.  Let  us 
flatter  ourselves  that  I  may  be  the  survivor." 

This  was  not  very  consoling  to  Mrs.  Bennet; 
and  therefore,  instead  of  making  any  answer,  she 
went  on  as  before. 

^^I  cannot  bear  to  think  that  they  should  have 
all  this  estate.  If  it  was  not  for  the  entail,  I 
should  not  mind  it." 

What  should  not  you  mind?  " 
I  should  not  mind  anything  at  all." 
Let  us  be  thankful  that  you  are  preserved  from 
a  state  of  such  i-nsensibility." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


197 


I  never  can  be  thankful,  Mr.  Bennet,  for  any- 
thing about  the  entail.  How  any  one  could  have 
the  conscience  to  entail  away  an  estate  from  one's 
own  daughters  I  cannot  understand;  and  all  for 
the  sake  of  Mr.  Collins  too!  Why  should  he 
have  it  more  than  anybody  else?'' 

leave  it  to  yourself  to  determine,"  said  Mr. 
Bennet. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


Miss  Bingley's  letter  arrived,  and  put  an  end  to 
doubt.  The  very  first  sentence  conveyed  the  as- 
surance of  their  being  all  settled  in  London  for  the 
winter,  and  concluded  with  her  brother's  regret 
at  not  having  had  time  to  pay  his  respects  to 
his  friends  in  Hertfordshire  before  he  left  the 
country. 

Hope  was  over,  entirely  over;  and  when  Jane 
could  attend  to  the  rest  of  the  letter,  she  found 
little,  except  the  professed  affection  of  the  writer, 
that  could  give  her  any  comfort.  Miss  Barcy's 
praise  occupied  the  chief  of  it.  Her  many  attrac- 
tions were  again  dwelt  on;  and  Caroline  boasted 
joyfully  of  their  increasing  intimacy,  and  ventured 
to  predict  the  accomplishment  of  the  wishes  which 
had  been  unfolded  in  her  former  letter.  She  wrote 
also  with  great  pleasure  of  her  brother's  being  an 
inmate  of  Mr.  Darcy's  house,  and  mentioned  with 
raptures  some  plans  of  the  latter  with  regard  to 
new  furniture. 

Elizabeth,  to  whom  Jane  very  soon  communi- 
cated the  chief  of  all  this,  heard  it  in  silent  indig- 
nation.   Her  heart  was  divided  between  concern 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  199 


for  her  sister  and  resentment  against  all  others. 
To  Caroline's  assertion  of  her  brother's  being  par- 
tial to  Miss  Darcy,  she  paid  no  credit.  That  he 
was  really  fond  of  Jane,  she  doubted  no  more  than 
she  had  ever  done;  and  much  as  she  had  always 
been  disposed  to  like  him,  she  could  not  think 
without  anger,  hardly  without  contempt,  on  that 
easiness  of  temper,  that  want  of  proper  resolution, 
which  now  made  him  the  slave  of  his  designing 
friends,  and  led  him  to  sacrifice  his  own  happiness 
to  the  caprice  of  their  inclinations.  Had  his  own 
happiness,  however,  been  the  only  sacrifice,  he 
might  have  been  allowed  to  sport  with  it  in  what- 
ever manner  he  thought  best ;  but  her  sister's  was 
involved  in  it,  as  she  thought  he  must  be  sensible 
himself.  It  was  a  subject,  in  short,  on  which 
reflection  would  be  long  indulged,  and  must  be 
unavailing.  She  could  think  of  nothing  else ;  and 
yet,  whether  Bingley's  regard  had  really  died 
away,  or  were  suppressed  by  his  friend's  interfer- 
ence; whether  he  had  been  aware  of  Jane's  attach- 
ment, or  whether  it  had  escaped  his  observation; 
whatever  were  the  case,  though  her  opinion  of  him 
must  be  materially  affected  by  the  difference,  her 
sister's  situation  remained  the  same,  her  peace 
equally  wounded. 

A  day  or  two  passed  before  Jane  had  courage  to 
Bpeak  of  her  feelings  to  Elizabeth ;  but  at  last,  on 
Mrs.  Bennet's  leaving  them  together, jifter  a  longer 


200 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


irritation  than  usual  about  ISTetlierfield  and  its 
master,  slie  could  not  help  saying,  — 

Oh  that  my  dear  mother  had  more  command 
over  herself;  she  can  have  no  idea  of  the  pain  she 
gives  me  by  her  continual  reflections  on  him.  But 
I  will  not  repine.  It  cannot  last  long.  He  will 
be  forgot,  and  we  shall  all  be  as  we  were  before.'' 

Elizabeth  looked  at  her  sister  with  incredulous 
solicitude,  but  said  nothing. 

You  doubt  me,"  cried  Jane,  slightly  coloring; 

indeed  you  have  no  reason.  He  may  live  in  my 
memory  as  the  most  amiable  man  of  my  acquaint- 
ance, but  that  is  all.  I  have  nothing  either 
to  hope  or  fear,  and  nothing  to  reproach  him 
with.  Thank  God,  I  have  not  that  pain.  A  little 
time,  therefore  —  I  shall  certainly  try  to  get  the 
better  —  " 

With  a  stronger  voice  she  soon  added:  have 
this  comfort  immediately,  that  it  has  not  been 
more  than  an  error  of  fancy  on  my  side,  and  that 
it  has  done  no  harm  to  any  one  but  myself." 

^'My  dear  Jane,"  exclaimed  Elizabeth,  ^^you 
are  too  good.  Your  sweetness  and  disinterested- 
ness are  really  angelic;  I  do  not  know  what  to  say 
to  you.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  never  done  you  justice, 
or  loved  you  as  you  deserve." 

Miss  Bennet  eagerly  disclaimed  all  extraor- 
dinary merit,  and  threw  back  the  praise  on  her 
sister's  warm  affection. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


201 


'^Nay/'  said  Elizabeth,  ^^this  is  not  fair. 
You  wish  to  think  all  the  world  respectable,  and 
are  hurt  if  I  speak  ill  of  anybody.  I  only  want  to 
think  you  perfect,  and  you  set  yourself  against  it. 
Do  not  be  afraid  of  my  running  into  any  excess, 
of  my  encroaching  on  your  privilege  of  universal 
good-will.  You  need  not.  There  are  few  people 
whom  I  really  love,  and  still  fewer  of  whom  I 
think  well.  The  more  I  see  of  the  world  the  more 
am  I  dissatisfied  with  it;  and  every  day  confirms 
my  belief  of  the  inconsistency  of  all  human  char- 
acters, and  of  the  little  dependence  that  can  be 
placed  on  the  appearance  of  either  merit  or  sense. 
I  have  met  with  two  instances  lately:  one  I 
will  not  mention;  the  other  is  Charlotte's  mar- 
riage. It  is  unaccountable,  —  in  every  view  it  is 
unaccountable! 

"M.J  dear  Lizzie,  do  not  give  way  to  such  feel- 
ings as  these.  They  will  ruin  your  happiness. 
You  do  not  make  allowance  enough  for  difference 
of  situation  and  temper.  Consider  Mr.  Collinses 
respectability,  and  Charlotte's  prudent,  steady 
character.  Remember  that  she  is  one  of  a  large 
family;  that  as  to  fortune  it  is  a  most  eligible 
match;  and  be  ready  to  believe,  for  everybody's 
sake,  that  she  may  feel  something  like  regard  and 
esteem  for  our  cousin." 

*^To  oblige  you,  I  would  try  to  believe  almost 
anything,  but  no  one  else  could  be  benefited  by 


202  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


such  a  belief  as  this;  for  were  I  persuaded  that 
Charlotte  had  any  regard  for  him,  I  should  only 
think  worse  of  her  understanding  than  I  now  do 
of  her  heart.  My  dear  Jane,  Mr.  Collins  is  a 
conceited,  pompous,  narrow-minded,  silly  man; 
you  know  he  is,  as  well  as  I  do;  and  you  must 
feel,  as  well  as  I  do,  that  the  woman  who  marries 
him  cannot  have  a  proper  way  of  thinking.  You 
shall  not  defend  her,  though  it  is  Charlotte  Lucas. 
You  shall  not,  for  the  sake  of  one  individual 
change  the  meaning  of  principle  and  integrity, 
nor  endeavor  to  persuade  yourself  or  me,  that 
selfishness  is  prudence,  and  insensibility  of  dan- 
ger security  for  happiness.'' 

'^I  must  think  your  language  too  strong  in 
speaking  of  both,"  replied  Jane;  ^^and  I  hope 
you  will  be  convinced  of  it,  by  seeing  them  happy 
together.  But  enough  of  this.  You  alluded  to 
something  else.  You  mentioned  two  instances. 
I  cannot  misunderstand  you,  but  I  entreat  you, 
dear  Lizzie,  not  to  pain  me  by  thinking  that  per- 
son to  blame,  and  saying  your  opinion  of  him  is 
sunk.  We  must  not  be  so  ready  to  fancy  ourselves 
intentionally  injured.  We  must  not  expect  a 
lively  young  man  to  be  always  so  guarded  and 
circumspect.  It  is  very  often  nothing  but  our 
own  vanity  that  deceives  us.  Women  fancy 
admiration  means  more  than  it  does." 

"And  men  take  care  that  they  should." 


\ 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


203 


*'If  it  is  designedly  done,  they  cannot  be  justi- 
fied; but  I  have  no  idea  of  there  being  so  much 
design  in  the  world  as  some  persons  imagine." 

'^I  am  far  from  attributing  any  part  of  Mr. 
Bingley's  conduct  to  design,"  said  Elizabeth; 
**but  without  scheming  to  do  wrong  or  to  make 
others  unhappy,  there  may  be  error  and  there  may 
be  misery.  Thoughtlessness,  want  of  attention  to 
other  people's  feelings,  and  want  of  resolution  will 
do  the  business." 

*^And  do  you  impute  it  to  either  of  those?" 

*^Yes;  to  the  last.  But  if  I  go  on  I  shall  dis- 
please you  by  saying  what  I  think  of  persons  you 
esteem.    Stop  me  whilst  you  can." 

*^You  persist,  then,  in  supposing  his  sisters 
influence  him.'' 

Yes,  in  conjunction  with  his  friend." 

^'1  cannot  believe  it.  Why  should  they  try  to 
influence  him?  They  can  only  wish  his  happiness; 
and  if  he  is  attached  to  me,  no  other  woman  can 
secure  it." 

'^Your  first  position  is  false.  They  may  wish 
many  things  besides  his  happiness :  they  may  wish 
his  increase  of  wealth  and  consequence;  they  may 
wish  him  to  marry  a  girl  who  has  all  the  impor- 
tance of  money,  great  connections,  and  pride." 

Beyond  a  doubt  they  do  wish  him  to  choose 
Miss  Darcy,"  replied  Jane;  ^^but  this  may  be 
from  better  feelings  than  you  are  supposing.  They 


204  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


have  known  her  much  longer  than  they  have  known 
me ;  no  wonder  if  they  love  her  better.  But  whatever 
may  be  their  own  wishes,  it  is  very  unlikely  they 
should  have  opposed  their  brother's.  What  sister 
would  think  herself  at  liberty  to  do  it,  unless  there 
were  something  very  objectionable?  If  they  be- 
lieved him  attached  to  me,  they  would  not  try  to 
part  us ;  if  he  were  so,  they  could  not  succeed.  By 
supposing  such  an  affection,  you  make  everybody 
acting  unnaturally  and  wrong,  and  me  most  un- 
happy. Do  not  distress  me  by  the  idea.  I  am 
not  ashamed  of  having  been  mistaken  —  or,  at 
least,  it  is  slight,  it  is  nothing  in  comparison  of 
what  I  should  feel  in  thinking  ill  of  him  or  his 
sisters.  Let  me  take  it  in  the  best  light,  in  the 
light  in  which  it  may  be  understood." 

Elizabeth  could  not  oppose  such  a  wish;  and 
from  this  time  Mr.  Bingley's  name  was  scarcely 
ever  mentioned  between  them. 

Mrs.  Bennet  still  continued  to  wonder  and  re- 
pine at  his  returning  no  more ;  and  though  a  day 
seldom  passed  in  which  Elizabeth  did  not  account 
for  it  clearly,  there  seemed  little  chance  of  her 
ever  considering  it  with  less  perplexity.  Her 
daughter  endeavored  to  convince  her  of  what  she 
did  not  believe  herself,  that  his  attentions  to  Jane 
had  been  merely  the  effect  of  a  common  and  tran- 
sient liking,  which  ceased  when  he  saw  her  no 
more;  but  though  the  probability  of  the  statement 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


205 


was  admitted  at  the  time,  she  had  the  same  story 
to  repeat  every  day.  Mrs.  Bennet's  best  comfort 
was  that  Mr.  Bingley  must  be  down  again  in  the 
summer. 

Mr.  Bennet  treated  the  matter  differently.  So, 
Lizzy/'  said  he,  one  day,  ^^your  sister  is  crossed 
in  love,  I  find.  I  congratulate  her.  Next  to  be- 
ing married,  a  girl  likes  to  be  crossed  in  love  a 
little  now  and  then.  It  is  something  to  think  of, 
and  gives  her  a  sort  of  distinction  among  her  com- 
panions. When  is  your  turn  to  come?  You  will 
hardly  bear  to  be  long  outdone  by  Jane.  Now  is 
your  time.  Here  are  officers  enough  at  Meryton 
to  disappoint  all  the  young  ladies  in  the  country. 
Let  Wickham  be  your  man.  He  is  a  pleasant 
fellow,  and  would  jilt  you  creditably." 

"Thank  you,  sir,  but  a  less  agreeable  man 
would  satisfy  me.  We  must  not  all  expect  Jane's 
good  fortune." 

"True,"  said  Mr.  Bennet;  "but  it  is  a  comfort 
to  think  that,  whatever  of  that  kind  may  befall 
you,  you  have  an  affectionate  mother  who  will 
always  make  the  most  of  it." 

Mr.  Wickham's  society  was  of  material  service 
in  dispelling  the  gloom  which  the  late  perverse 
occurrences  had  thrown  on  many  of  the  Longbourn 
family.  They  saw  him  often,  and  to  his  other 
recommendations  was  now  added  that  of  general 
unreserve.    The  whole  of  what  Elizabeth  had  al- 


206  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


ready  heard,  his  claims  on  Mr.  Darcy,  and  all  that 
he  had  suffered  from  him  was  now  openly  acknowl- 
edged and  publicly  canvassed;  and  everybody  was 
pleased  to  think  how  much  they  had  always  dis- 
liked Mr.  Darcy  before  they  had  known  anything 
of  the  matter. 

Miss  Bennet  was  the  only  creature  who  could 
suppose  there  might  be  any  extenuating  circum- 
stances in  the  case  unknown  to  the  society  of 
Hertfordshire :  her  mild  and  steady  candor  always 
pleaded  for  allowances,  and  urged  the  possibility 
of  mistakes ;  but  by  everybody  else  Mr.  Darcy  was 
condemned  as  the  worst  of  men. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


After  a  week  spent  in  professions  of  love  and 
schemes  of  felicity,  Mr.  Collins  was  called  from 
his  amiable  Charlotte  by  the  arrival  of  Saturday. 
The  pain  of  separation,  however,  might  be  allevi- 
ated on  his  side  by  preparations  for  the  recep- 
tion of  his  bride,  as  he  had  reason  to  hope  that 
shortly  after  his  next  return  into  Hertfordshire 
the  day  would  be  fixed  that  was  to  make  him  the 
happiest  of  men.  He  took  leave  of  his  relations 
at  Longbourn  with  as  much  solemnity  as  before; 
wished  his  fair  cousins  health  and  happiness 
again,  and  promised  their  father  another  letter  of 
thanks. 

On  the  following  Monday  Mrs.  Bennet  had  the 
pleasure  of  receiving  her  brother  and  his  wife,  who 
came,  as  usual,  to  spend  the  Christmas  at  Long- 
bourn.  Mr.  Gardiner  was  a  sensible,  gentleman- 
like man,  greatly  superior  to  his  sister,  as  well  by 
nature  as  education.  The  ISTetherfield  ladies  would 
have  had  difficulty  in  believing  that  a  man  who 
lived  by  trade,  and  within  view  of  his  own  ware- 
houses, could  have  been  so  well  bred  and  agreeable. 
Mrs.  Gardiner,  who  was  several  years  younger 


208  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


than  Mrs.  Bennet  and  Mrs.  Philips,  was  an  amia- 
ble, intelligent,  elegant  woman,  and  a  great  fa- 
vorite with  her  Longbourn  nieces.  Between  the 
two  eldest  and  herself  especially,  there  subsisted  a 
very  particular  regard.  They  had  frequently  been 
staying  with  her  in  town. 

The  first  part  of  Mrs.  Gardiner's  business,  on 
her  arrival,  was  to  distribute  her  presents  and 
describe  the  newest  fashions.  When  this  was 
done,  she  had  a  less  active  part  to  play.  It  be- 
came her  turn  to  listen.  Mrs.  Bennet  had  many 
grievances  to  relate,  and  much  to  complain  of. 
They  had  all  been  very  ill-used  since  she  last 
saw  her  sister.  Two  of  her  girls  had  been  on  the 
point  of  marriage,  and  after  all  there  was  nothing 
in  it. 

^^I  do  not  blame  Jane,"  she  continued,  *^for 
Jane  would  have  got  Mr.  Bingley  if  she  could. 
But,  Lizzy!  Oh,  sister!  it  is  very  hard  to  think 
that  she  might  have  been  Mr.  Collins's  wife  by 
this  time,  had  not  it  been  for  her  own  perverse- 
ness.  He  made  her  an  offer  in  this  very  room, 
and  she  refused  him.  The  consequence  of  it  is 
that  Lady  Lucas  will  have  a  daughter  married  before 
I  have,  and  that  Longbourn  estate  is  just  as  much 
entailed  as  ever.  The  Lucases  are  very  artful 
people,  indeed,  sister.  They  are  all  for  what  they 
can  get.  I  am  sorry  to  say  it  of  them,  but  so  it 
is.    It  makes  me  very  nervous  and  poorly,  to  be 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


209 


thwarted  so  in  my  own  family,  and  to  have  neigh- 
bors who  think  of  themselves  before  anybody  else. 
However,  your  coming  just  at  this  time  is  the 
greatest  of  comforts,  and  I  am  very  glad  to  hear 
what  you  tell  us  of  long  sleeves." 

Mrs.  Gardiner,  to  whom  the  chief  of  this  news 
had  been  given  before,  in  the  course  of  Jane  and 
Elizabeth's  correspondence  with  her,  made  her 
sister  a  slight  answer,  and,  in  compassion  to  her 
nieces,  turned  the  conversation. 

When  alone  with  Elizabeth  afterwards,  she 
spoke  more  on  the  subject.  '^It  seems  likely  to 
have  been  a  desirable  match  for  Jane,"  said  she. 
^'I  am  sorry  it  went  off.  But  these  things  hap- 
pen so  often !  A  young  man,  such  as  you  describe 
Mr.  Bingley,  so  easily  falls  in  love  with  a  pretty 
girl  for  a  few  weeks,  and,  when  accident  separates 
them,  so  easily  forgets  her,  that  these  sort  of  in- 
constancies are  very  frequent." 

^^An  excellent  consolation  in  its  way,"  said 
Elizabeth;  but  it  will  not  do  for  us.  We  do  not 
suffer  by  accident.  It  does  not  often  happen  that 
the  interference  of  friends  will  persuade  a  young 
man  of  independent  fortune  to  think  no  more  of  a 
girl  whom  he  was  violently  in  love  with  only  a 
few  days  before." 

^^But  that  expression  of  ^violently  in  love  '  is 
so  hackneyed,  so  doubtful,  so  indefinite,  that  it 
gives  me  very  little  idea.    It  is  as  often  applied 

VOL.  I. —  14 


210  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


to  feelings  which  arise  only  from  a  half  hour's  ac- 
quaintance as  to  a  real,  strong  attachment.  Pray, 
how  violent  was  Mr.  Bingley^s  love? 

I  never  saw  a  more  promising  inclination;  he 
was  growing  quite  inattentive  to  other  people,  and 
wholly  engrossed  by  her.  Every  time  they  met,  it 
was  more  decided  and  remarkable.  At  his  own 
ball  he  offended  two  or  three  young  ladies  by  not 
asking  them  to  dance ;  and  I  spoke  to  him  twice 
myself  without  receiving  an  answer.  Could  there 
be  finer  symptoms?  Is  not  general  incivility  the 
very  essence  of  love? 

Oh,  yes!  of  that  kind  of  love  which  I  suppose 
him  to  have  felt.  Poor  Jane!  I  am  sorry  for  her, 
because,  with  her  dispo-^ition,  she  may  not  get 
over  it  immediately.  It  had  better  have  happened 
to  you,  Lizzy;  you  would  have  laughed  yourself 
out  of  it  sooner.  But  do  you  think  she  would  be 
prevailed  on  to  go  back  with  us?  Change  of  scene 
might  be  of  service,  and  perhaps  a  little  relief 
from  home  may  be  as  useful  as  anything.'' 

Elizabeth  was  exceedingly  pleased  with  this 
proposal,  and  felt  persuaded  of  her  sister's  ready 
acquiescence. 

^^I  hope,"  added  Mrs.  Gardiner,  ''that  no  con- 
sideration with  regard  to  this  young  man  will  in- 
fluence her.  We  live  in  so  different  a  part  of 
town,  all  our  connections  are  so  different,  and,  as 
you  well  know,  we  go  out  so  little,  that  it  is  very 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  211 


improbable  they  should  meet  at  all,  unless  he 
really  comes  to  see  her." 

And  that  is  quite  impossible;  for  he  is  now  in 
the  custody  of  his  friend,  and  Mr.  Darcy  would  no 
more  suffer  him  to  call  on  Jane  in  such  a  part  of 
London !  My  dear  aunt,  how  could  you  think  of 
it?  Mr.  Darcy  may  perhaps  have  heard  of  such 
a  place  as  Gracechurch  Street,  but  he  would  hardly 
think  a  month's  ablution  enough  to  cleanse  him 
from  its  impurities,  were  he  once  to  enter  it;  and 
depend  upon  it,  Mr.  Bingley  never  stirs  without 
him.'' 

^^So  much  the  better.  I  hope  they  will  not 
meet  at  all.  But  does  not  Jane  correspond  with 
his  sister?  She  will  not  be  able  to  help  calling." 
She  will  drop  the  acquaintance  entirely." 

But,  in  spite  of  the  certainty  in  which  Elizabeth 
affected  to  place  this  point,  as  well  as  the  still 
more  interesting  one  of  Binglej^'s  being  withheld 
from  seeing  Jane,  she  felt  a  solicitude  on  the  sub- 
ject which  convinced  her,  on  examination,  that  she 
did  not  consider  it  entirely  hopeless.  It  was  pos- 
sible, and  sometimes  she  thought  it  probable,  that 
his  affection  might  be  re-animated,  and  the  influ- 
ence of  his  friends  successfully  combated  by  the 
more  natural  influence  of  Jane's  attractions. 

Miss  Bennet  accepted  her  aunt's  invitation  with 
pleasure;  and  the  Bingleys  were  no  otherwise  in 
her  thoughts  at  the  same  time  than  as  she  hoped, 


212 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


by  Caroline's  not  living  in  the  same  house  with 
her  brother,  she  might  occasionally  spend  a  morn- 
ing with  her,  without  any  danger  of  seeing  him. 

The  Gardiners  stayed  a  week  at  Longbourn ;  and 
what  with  the  Philipses,  the  Lucases,  and  the  offi- 
cers, there  was  not  a  day  without  its  engagement. 
Mrs.  Bennet  had  so  carefully  provided  for  the  en- 
tertainment of  her  brother  and  sister,  that  they 
did  not  once  sit  down  to  a  family  dinner.  When 
the  engagement  was  for  home,  some  of  the  officers 
always  made  part  of  it,  of  which  officers  Mr.  Wick- 
ham  was  sure  to  be  one;  and  on  these  occasions 
Mrs.  Gardiner,  rendered  suspicious  by  Elizabeth's 
warm  commendation  of  him,  narrowly  observed 
them  both.  Without  supposing  them,  from  what 
she  saw,  to  be  very  seriously  in  love,  their  prefer- 
ence of  each  other  was  plain  enough  to  make  her  a 
little  uneasy;  and  she  resolved  to  speak  to  Eliza- 
beth on  the  subject  before  she  left  Hertfordshire, 
and  represent  to  her  the  imprudence  of  encourag- 
ing such  an  attachment. 

To  Mrs.  Gardiner,  Wickham  had  one  means  of 
affording  pleasure,  unconnected  with  his  general 
powers.  About  ten  or  a  dozen  years  ago,  before 
her  marriage,  she  had  spent  a  considerable  time  in 
that  very  part  of  Derbyshire  to  which  he  belonged. 
They  had  therefore  many  acquaintance  in  com- 
mon ;  and  though  Wickham  had  been  little  there 
since  the  death  of  Darcy's  father,  five  years  before, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


213 


it  was  yet  in  his  power  to  give  her  fresher  intelli- 
gence of  her  former  friends  than  she  had  been  in 
the  way  of  procuring. 

Mrs.  Gardiner  had  seen  Pemberley,  and  known 
the  late  Mr.  Darcy  by  character  perfectly  well. 
Here,  consequently,  was  an  inexhaustible  subject 
of  discourse.  In  comparing  her  recollection  of 
Pemberley  with  the  minute  description  which 
Wickham  could  give,  and  in  bestowing  her  tribute 
of  praise  on  the  character  of  its  late  possessor,  she 
was  delighting  both  him  and  herself.  On  being 
made  acquainted  with  the  present  Mr.  Darcy's 
treatment  of  him,  she  tried  to  remember  some- 
thing of  that  gentleman's  reputed  disposition, 
when  quite  a  lad,  which  might  agree  with  it;  and 
was  confident,  at  last,  that  she  recollected  having 
heard  Mr.  Fitzwilliam  Darcy  formerly  spoken  of 
as  a  very  proud,  ill-natured  boy. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


Mks.  Gardiner's  caution  to  Elizabeth  was  punc- 
tually and  kindly  given  on  the  first  favorable  op- 
portunity of  speaking  to  her  alone.  After  honestly 
telling  her  what  she  thought,  she  thus  went  on : 

^'You  are  too  sensible  a  girl,  Lizzy,  to  fall  in 
love  merely  because  you  are  warned  against  it; 
and  therefore  I  am  not  afraid  of  speaking  openly. 
Seriously,  I  would  have  you  be  on  your  guard. 
Do  not  involve  yourself,  or  endeavor  to  involve 
him,  in  an  affection  which  the  want  of  fortune 
would  make  so  very  imprudent.  I  have  nothing 
to  say  against  him :  he  is  a  most  interesting  young 
man ;  and  if  he  had  the  fortune  he  ought  to  have, 
I  should  think  you  could  not  do  better.  But  as  it 
is  —  you  must  not  let  your  fancy  run  away  with 
you.  You  have  sense,  and  we  all  expect  you  to 
use  it.  Your  father  would  depend  on  your  resolu- 
tion and  good  conduct,  I  am  sure.  You  must  not 
disappoint  your  father.'' 

*^My  dear  aunt,  this  is  being  serious  indeed." 
Yes,  and  I  hope  to  engage  you  to  be  serious 
likewise." 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


215 


Well,  then,  you  need  not  be  under  any  alarm. 
I  will  take  care  of  myself,  and  of  Mr.  Wickham 
too.  He  shall  not  be  in  love  with  me,  if  I  can 
prevent  it." 

Elizabeth,  you  are  not  serious  now." 
^  ^  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  will  try  again.  At 
present  I  am  not  in  love  with  Mr.  Wickham ;  no, 
I  certainly  am  not.  But  he  is,  beyond  all  com- 
parison, the  most  agreeable  man  I  ever  saw;  and 
if  he  becomes  really  attached  to  me  —  I  believe  it 
will  be  better  that  he  should  not.  I  see  the  im- 
prudence of  it.  Oh,  that  abominable  Mr.  Darcy! 
My  father's  opinion  of  me  does  me  the  greatest 
honor,  and  I  should  be  miserable  to  forfeit  it. 
My  father,  however,  is  partial  to  Mr.  Wickham. 
In  short,  my  dear  aunt,  I  should  be  very  sorry 
to  be  the  means  of  making  any  of  you  unhappy; 
but  since  we  see,  every  day,  that  where  there  is 
affection  young  people  are  seldom  withheld,  by 
immediate  want  of  fortune,  from  entering  into 
engagements  with  each  other,  how  can  I  promise 
to  be  wiser  than  so  many  of  my  fellow-creatures, 
if  I  am  temptea,  or  how  am  I  even  to  know  that  it 
would  be  wisdom  to  resist?  All  that  I  can  promise 
you,  therefore,  is  not  to  be  in  a  hurry.  I  will  not 
be  in  a  hurry  to  believe  myself  his  first  object. 
When  I  am  in  company  with  him,  I  will  not  be 
wishing.    In  short,  I  will  do  my  best." 

Perhaps  it  will  be  as  well  if  you  discourage 


216 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


his  coming  here  so  very  often.  At  least  you 
should  not  remind  your  mother  of  inviting  him.'' 
As  I  did  the  other  day/'  said  Elizaheth,  with 
a  conscious  smile;  very  true,  it  will  he  wise  in 
me  to  refrain  from  that.  But  do  not  imagine  that 
he  is  always  here  so  often.  It  is  on  your  account 
that  he  has  been  so  frequently  invited  this  week. 
You  know  my  mother's  ideas  as  to  the  necessity  of 
constant  company  for  her  friends.  But  really,  and 
upon  my  honor,  I  will  try  to  do  what  I  think  to  he 
wisest;  and  now  I  hope  you  are  satisfied." 

Her  aunt  assured  her  that  she  was;  and  Eliza- 
beth, having  thanked  her  for  the  kindness  of  her 
hints,  they  parted,  —  a  wonderful  instance  of  ad- 
vice being  given  on  such  a  point  without  being 
resented. 

Mr.  Collins  returned  into  Hertfordshire  soon 
after  it  had  been  quitted  by  the  Gardiners  and 
Jane;  but  as  he  took  up  his  abode  with  the  Lu- 
cases, his  arrival  was  no  great  inconvenience  to 
Mrs.  Bennet.  His  marriage  was  now  fast  ap- 
proaching; and  she  was  at  length  so  far  resigned 
as  to  think  it  inevitable,  and  even  repeatedly  to 
say,  in  an  ill-natured  tone,  that  she  wished  they 
might  be  happy."  Thursday  was  to  be  the  wed- 
ding-day, and  on  Wednesday  Miss  Lucas  paid  her 
farewell  visit;  and  when  she  rose  to  take  leave, 
Elizabeth,  ashamed  of  her  mother's  ungracious  and 
reluctant  good  wishes,  and  sincerely  affected  her- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  217 


self,  accompanied  her  out  of  the  room.  As  they 
went  downstairs  together,  Charlotte  said,  — 

^^I  shall  depend  on  hearing  from  you  very  often, 
Eliza." 

That  you  certainly  shall." 

^^And  I  have  another  favor  to  ask.  Will  you 
come  and  see  me?" 

We  shall  often  meet,  I  hope,  in  Hertfordshire." 
am  not  likely  to  leave  Kent  for  some  time. 
Promise  me,  therefore,  to  come  to  Hunsford." 

Elizabeth  could  not  refuse,  though  she  foresaw 
little  pleasure  in  the  visit. 

^^My  father  and  Maria  are  to  come  to  me  in 
March,"  added  Charlotte,  ^^and  I  hope  you  will 
consent  to  be  of  the  party.  Indeed,  Eliza,  you  will 
be  as  welcome  to  me  as  either  of  them." 

The  wedding  took  place:  the  bride  and  bride- 
groom set  off  for  Kent  from  the  church  door,  and 
everybody  had  as  much  to  say  or  to  hear  on  the  sub- 
ject as  usual.  Elizabeth  soon  heard  from  her 
friend,  and  their  correspondence  was  as  regular 
and  frequent  as  it  ever  had  been;  that  it  should 
be  equally  unreserved  was  impossible.  Elizabeth 
could  never  address  her  without  feeling  that  all 
the  comfort  of  intimacy  was  over;  and  though  de- 
termined not  to  slacken  as  a  correspondent,  it  was 
for  the  sake  of  what  had  been  rather  than  what 
was.  Charlotte's  first  letters  were  received  with  a 
good  deal  of  eagerness:  there  could  not  but  be 


218  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


curiosity  to  know  how  she  would  speak  of  her  new 
home,  how  she  would  like  Lady  Catherine,  and 
how  happy  she  would  dare  pronounce  herself  to  be; 
though,  when  the  letters  were  read,  Elizabeth  felt 
that  Charlotte  expressed  herself  on  every  point 
exactly  as  she  might  have  foreseen.  She  wrote 
cheerfully,  seemed  surrounded  with  comforts,  and 
mentioned  nothing  which  she  could  not  praise. 
The  house,  furniture,  neighborhood,  and  roads 
were  all  to  her  taste,  and  Lad}^  Catherine's  be- 
havior was  most  friendly  and  obliging.  It  was 
Mr.  Collins's  picture  of  Hunsford  and  Rosings 
rationally  softened;  and  Elizabeth  perceived  that 
she  must  wait  for  her  own  visit  there,  to  know 
the  rest. 

Jane  had  already  written  a  few  lines  to  her 
sister,  to  announce  their  safe  arrival  in  London; 
and  when  she  wrote  again,  Elizabeth  hoped  it 
would  be  in  her  power  to  say  something  of  the 
Bingleys.  Her  impatience  for  this  second  letter 
was  as  well  rewarded  as  impatience  generally  is. 
Jane  had  been  a  week  in  town  without  either  seeing 
or  hearing  from  Caroline.  She  accounted  for  it, 
however,  by  supposing  that  her  last  letter  to  her 
friend  from  Longbourn  had  by  some  accident  been 
lost. 

"  My  aunt,"  she  continued,  "  is  going  to-morrow  into 
that  part  of  the  town,  and  I  shall  take  the  opportunity  of 
calling  in  Grosvenor  Street." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


219 


She  wrote  again  when  the  visit  was  paid,  and 
she  had  seen  Miss  Bingley. 

"  I  did  not  think  CaroUne  in  spirits,"  were  her  words  ; 
"  but  she  was  very  glad  to  see  me,  and  reproached  me  for 
giving  her  no  notice  of  my  coming  to  London.  I  was 
right,  therefore  ;  my  last  letter  had  never  reached  her. 
I  inquired  after  their  brother,  of  course.  He  was  well, 
but  so  much  engaged  with  Mr.  Darcy  that  they  scarcely 
ever  saw  him.  I  found  that  Miss  Darcy  was  expected  to 
dinner :  I  wish  I  could  see  her.  My  visit  was  not  long, 
as  Caroline  and  Mrs.  Hurst  were  going  out.  I  dare  say 
I  shall  soon  see  them  here." 

Elizabeth  shook  her  head  over  this  letter.  It 
convinced  her  that  accident  only  could  discover  to 
Mr.  Bingley  her  sister's  being  in  town. 

Four  weeks  passed  away,  and  Jane  saw  nothing 
of  him.  She  endeavored  to  persuade  herself  that 
she  did  not  regret  it;  but  she  could  no  longer  be 
blind  to  Miss  Bingley's  inattention.  After  wait- 
ing at  home  every  morning  for  a  fortnight,  and  in- 
venting every  evening  a  fresh  excuse  for  her,  the 
visitor  did  at  last  appear ;  but  the  shortness  of  her 
stay,  and  yet  more  the  alteration  of  her  manner 
would  allow  Jane  to  deceive  herself  no  longer. 
The  letter  which  she  wrote  on  this  occasion  to  her 
sister  will  prove  what  she  felt:  — 

My  dearest  Lizzy  will,  I  am  sure,  be  incapable  of  tri- 
umphing in  her  better  judgment,  at  my  expense,  when  I 
confess  myself  to  have  been  entirely  deceived  in  Miss 
Bingley's  regard  for  me.  But,  my  dear  sister,  though 
the  event  has  proved  you  right,  do  not  think  me  obstinate 


220 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


if  I  still  assert  that,  considering  what  her  behavior  was, 
my  confidence  was  as  natural  as  your  suspicion.  I  do  not 
at  all  comprehend  her  reason  for  wishing  to  be  intimate 
with  me ;  but  if  the  same  circumstances  were  to  happen 
again,  I  am  sure  I  should  be  deceived  again.  Caroline 
did  not  return  my  visit  till  yesterday  ;  and  not  a  note, 
not  a  line,  did  I  receive  in  the  mean  time.  When  she  did 
come,  it  was  very  evident  that  she  had  no  pleasure  in  it ; 
she  made  a  slight,  formal  apology  for  not  calling  before, 
said  not  a  word  of  wishing  to  see  me  again,  and  was  in 
every  respect  so  altered  a  creature  that  when  she  went 
away  I  was  perfectly  resolved  to  continue  the  acquaint- 
ance no  longer.  I  pity,  though  1  cannot  help  blaming 
her.  She  was  very  wrong  in  singling  me  out  as  she  did ; 
I  can  safely  say  that  every  advance  to  intimacy  began  on 
her  side.  But  I  pity  her,  because  she  must  feel  that  she 
has  been  acting  wrong,  and  because  I  am  very  sure  that 
anxiety  for  her  brother  is  the  cause  of  it.  I  need  not 
explain  myself  further ;  and  though  we  know  this  anxiety 
to  be  quite  needless,  yet  if  she  feels  it,  it  will  easily  ac- 
count for  her  behavior  to  me ;  and  so  deservedly  dear  as 
he  is  to  his  sister,  whatever  anxiety  she  may  feel  on  his 
behalf  is  natural  and  amiable.  I  cannot  but  wonder, 
however,  at  her  having  any  such  fears  now,  because  if  he 
had  at  all  cared  about  me,  we  must  have  met  long,  long 
ago.  He  knows  of  my  being  in  town,  I  am  certain,  from 
something  she  said  herself ;  and  yet  it  would  seem,  by 
her  manner  of  talking,  as  if  she  wanted  to  persuade  her- 
self that  he  is  really  partial  to  Miss  Darcy.  I  cannot 
understand  it.  If  I  were  not  afraid  of  judging  harshly,  I 
should  be  almost  tempted  to  say  that  there  is  a  strong 
appearance  of  duplicity  in  all  this.  But  I  will  endeavor 
to  banish  every  painful  thought,  and  think  only  of  what 
will  make  me  happy,  your  affection,  and  the  invariable 
kindness  of  my  dear  uncle  and  aunt.  Let  me  hear  from 
you  very  soon.    Miss  Bingley  said  something  of  his  never 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  221 


returning  to  Netherfield  again,  of  giving  up  the  house, 
but  not  with  any  certainty.  We  had  better  not  mention 
it.  I  am  extremely  glad  that  you  have  such  pleasant  ac- 
counts from  our  friends  at  Hunsford.  Pray  go  to  see 
them,  with  Sir  William  and  Maria.  I  am  sure  you  will 
be  very  comfortable  there. 

Yours,  etc. 

This  letter  gave  Elizabeth  some  pain;  but  her 
spirits  returned,  as  she  considered  that  Jane  would 
no  longer  be  duped,  by  the  sister  at  least.  All  ex- 
pectation from  the  brother  was  now  absolutely  over. 
She  would  not  even  wish  for  any  renewal  of  his  at- 
tentions. His  character  sunk  on  every  review  of 
it ;  and,  as  a  punishment  for  him,  as  well  as  a  pos- 
sible advantage  to  Jane,  she  seriously  hoped  he 
might  really  soon  marry  Mr.  Darcy's  sister,  as,  by 
Wickham's  account,  she  would  make  him  abun- 
dantly regret  what  he  had  thrown  away. 

Mrs.  Gardiner  about  this  time  reminded  Eliza- 
beth of  her  promise  concerning  that  gentleman, 
and  required  information;  and  Elizabeth  had  such 
to  send  as  might  rather  give  contentment  to  her 
aunt  than  to  herself.  His  apparent  partiality  had 
subsided,  his  attentions  were  over,  he  was  the  ad- 
mirer of  some  one  else.  Elizabeth  was  watchful 
enough  to  see  it  all,  but  she  could  see  it  and  write 
of  it  without  material  pain.  Her  heart  had  been 
but  slightly  touched,  and  her  vanity  was  satisfied 
with  believing  that  she  would  have  been  his  only 
choice,  had  fortune  permitted  it.     The  sudden 


222 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


acquisition  of  ten  thousand  pounds  was  the  most 
remarkable  charm  of  the  young  lady  to  whom  he 
was  now  rendering  himself  agreeable;  but  Eliza- 
beth, less  clear-sighted  perhaps  in  this  case  than 
in  Charlotte's,  did  not  quarrel  with  him  for  his 
wish  of  independence.  Nothing,  on  the  contrary, 
could  be  more  natural ;  and  while  able  to  suppose 
that  it  cost  him  a  few  struggles  to  relinquish  her, 
she  was  ready  to  allow  it  a  wise  and  desirable 
measure  for  both,  and  could  very  sincerely  wish 
him  happy. 

All  this  was  acknowledged  to  Mrs.  Gardiner; 
and  after  relating  the  circumstances,  she  thus 
went  on:  — 

"  I  am  now  convinced,  my  dear  aunt,  that  I  have  never 
been  much  in  love;  for  had  I  really  experienced  that 
pure  and  elevating  passion,  I  should  at  present  detest  his 
very  name,  and  wish  him  all  manner  of  evil.  But  my 
feelings  are  not  only  cordial  towards  him,  they  are  even 
impartial  towards  Miss  King.  I  cannot  find  out  that  I 
hate  her  at  all,  or  that  I  am  in  the  least  unwilHng  to 
think  her  a  very  good  sort  of  girl.  There  can  be  no 
love  in  all  this.  My  watchfulness  has  been  effectual ; 
and  though  I  should  certainly  be  a  more  interesting  ob- 
ject to  all  my  acquaintance,  were  I  distractedly  in  love 
with  him,  I  cannot  say  that  I  regret  my  comparative  in- 
significance. Importance  may  sometimes  be  purchased 
too  dearly.  Kitty  and  Lydia  take  his  defectibn  much 
more  to  heart  than  I  do.  They  are  young  in  the  ways 
of  the  world,  and  not  yet  open  to  the  mortifying  convic- 
tion that  handsome  young  men  must  have  something  to 
live  on,  as  well  as  the  plain." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


With  no  greater  events  than  these  in  the  Long- 
bourn  family,  and  otherwise  diversified  by  little 
beyond  the  walks  to  Meryton,  sometimes  dirty  and 
sometimes  cold,  did  January  and  February  pass 
away.  March  w^as  to  take  Elizabeth  to  Hunsford. 
She  had  not  at  first  thought  very  seriously  of  going 
thither;  but  Charlotte,  she  soon  found,  was  de- 
pending on  the  plan,  and  she  gradually  learned  to 
consider  it  herself  with  greater  pleasure  as  well  as 
greater  certainty.  Absence  had  increased  her  de- 
sire of  seeing  Charlotte  again,  and  weakened  her 
disgust  of  Mr.  Collins.  There  was  novelty  in  the 
scheme;  and  as  with  such  a  mother  and  such  un- 
companionable sisters  home  could  not  be  faultless, 
a  little  change  was  not  unwelcome  for  its  own  sake. 
The  journey  would,  moreover,  give  her  a  peep  at 
J ane ;  and  in  short,  as  the  time  drew  near,  she  would 
have  been  very  sorry  for  any  delay.  Everything, 
however,  went  on  smoothly,  and  was  finally  settled 
according  to  Charlotte's  first  sketch.  She  was  to 
accompany  Sir  William  and  his  second  daughter. 
The  improvement  of  spending  a  night  in  London 
was  added  in  time,  and  the  plan  became  perfect  as 
plan  could  be. 


224  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


The  only  pain  was  in  leaving  her  father,  who 
would  certainly  miss  her,  and  who,  when  it  came 
to  the  point,  so  little  liked  her  going  that  he  told 
her  to  write  to  him,  and  almost  promised  to  answer 
her  letter. 

The  farewell  hetween  herself  and  Mr.  Wickham 
was  perfectly  friendly;  on  his  side  even  more. 
His  present  pursuit  could  not  make  him  forget 
that  Elizabeth  had  been  the  first  to  excite  and  to 
deserve  his  attention,  the  first  to  listen  and  to 
pity,  the  first  to  be  admired;  and  in  his  manner 
of  bidding  her  adieu,  wishing  her  every  enjoy- 
ment, reminding  her  of  what  she  was  to  expect  in 
Lady  Catherine  de  Bourgh,  and  trusting  their 
opinion  of  her  —  their  opinion  of  everybody  — would 
always  coincide,  there  was  a  solicitude,  an  interest, 
which  she  felt  must  ever  attach  her  to  him  with  a 
most  sincere  regard;  and  she  parted  from  him 
convinced  that  whether  married  or  single,  he 
must  always  be  her  model  of  the  amiable  and 
pleasing. 

Her  fellow-travellers  the  next  day  were  not  of  a 
kind  to  make  her  think  him  less  agreeable.  Sir 
William  Lucas  and  his  daughter  Maria,  a  good- 
humored  girl,  but  as  empty-headed  as  himself,  had 
nothing  to  say  that  could  be  worth  hearing,  and 
were  listened  to  with  about  as  much  delight  as  the 
rattle  of  the  chaise.  Elizabeth  loved  absurdities, 
but  she  had  known  Sir  William's  too  long.  He 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  225 


could  tell  her  nothing  new  of  the  wonders  of  his 
presentation  and  knighthood;  and  his  civilities 
were  worn  out  like  his  information. 

It  was  a  journey  of  only  twenty-four  miles,  and 
they  hegan  it  so  early  as  to  be  in  Gracechurch 
Street  by  noon.  As  they  drove  to  Mr.  Gardiner's 
door,  Jane  was  at  a  drawing-room  window  watch- 
ing their  arrival :  when  they  entered  the  passage, 
she  was  there  to  welcome  them;  and  Elizabeth, 
looking  earnestly  in  her  face,  was  pleased  to  see  it 
healthful  and  lovely  as  ever.  On  the  stairs  were  a 
troop  of  little  boys  and  girls,  whose  eagerness  for 
their  cousin's  appearance  would  not  allow  them  to 
wait  in  the  drawing-room,  and  whose  shyness,  as 
they  had  not  seen  her  for  a  twelvemonth,  pre- 
vented their  coming  lower.  All  was  joy  and  kind- 
ness. The  day  passed  most  pleasantly  away,  —  the 
morning  in  bustle  and  shopping,  and  the  evening 
at  one  of  the  theatres. 

Elizabeth  then  contrived  to  sit  by  her  aunt. 
Their  first  subject  was  her  sister;  and  she  was 
more  grieved  than  astonished  to  hear,  in  reply  to  her 
minute  inquiries,  that  though  Jane  always  struggled 
to  support  her  spirits,  there  were  periods  of  dejec- 
tion. It  was  reasonable,  however,  to  hope  that 
they  would  not  continue  long.  Mrs.  Gardiner 
gave  her  the  particulars  also  of  Miss  Bingley's 
visit  in  Gracechurch  Street,  and  repeated  conversa- 
tions occurring  at  different  times  between  Jane 

VOL.  I.— 15 


226  PHIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


and  herself,  which  proved  that  the  former  had, 
from  her  heart,  given  up  the  acquaintance. 

Mrs.  Gardiner  then  rallied  her  niece  on  Wick- 
ham's  desertion,  and  complimented  her  on  bearing 
it  so  well. 

**But,  my  dear  Elizabeth,"  she  added,  ^'what 
sort  of  girl  is  Miss  King?  I  should  be  sorry  to 
think  our  friend  mercenary." 

"Pray,  my  dear  aunt,  what  is  the  difference,  in 
matrimonial  affairs,  between  the  mercenary  and 
the  prudent  motive?  Where  does  discretion  end, 
and  avarice  begin?  Last  Christmas  you  were 
afraid  of  his  marrying  me,  because  it  would  be 
imprudent;  and  now,  because  he  is  trying  to  get 
a  girl  with  only  ten  thousand  pounds,  you  want  to 
find  out  that  he  is  mercenary." 

"If  you  will  only  tell  me  what  sort  of  girl  Miss 
King  is,  I  shall  know  what  to  think." 

^  ^  She  is  a  very  good  kind  of  girl,  I  believe.  I 
know  no  harm  of  her." 

"But  he  paid  her  not  the  smallest  attention  till 
her  grandfather's  death  made  her  mistress  of  this 
fortune?" 

"No;  why  should  he?  If  it  were  not  allow- 
able for  him  to  gain  my  affections  because  I  had 
no  money,  what  occasion  could  there  be  for  making 
love  to  a  girl  whom  he  did  not  care  about,  and  who 
was  equally  poor?  " 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  ^27 


"But  there  seems  indelicacy  in  directing  his 
attentions  towards  her  so  soon  after  this  event.'' 

man  in  distressed  circumstances  has  not 
time  for  all  those  elegant  decorums  which  other 
people  may  observe.  If  she  does  not  object  to  it, 
why  should  we?  " 

"Her  not  objecting  does  not  justify  him.  It 
only  shows  her  being  deficient  in  something  her- 
self, —  sense  or  feeling." 

"Well,"  cried  Elizabeth,  "have  it  as  you 
choose.  He  shall  be  mercenary,  and  she  shall  be 
foolish." 

"No,  Lizzy,  that  is  what  I  do  not  choose.  I 
should  be  sorry,  you  know,  to  think  ill  of  a  young 
man  who  has  lived  so  long  in  Derbyshire." 

"Oh,  if  that  is  all,  I  have  a  very  poor  opinion 
of  young  men  who  live  in  Derbyshire;  and  their 
intimate  friends  who  live  in  Hertfordshire  are  not 
much  better.  I  am  sick  of  them  all.  Thank 
Heaven !  I  am  going  to-morrow  where  I  shall  find 
a  man  who  has  not  one  agreeable  quality,  who  has 
neither  manner  nor  sense  to  recommend  him. 
Stupid  men  are  the  only  ones  worth  knowing, 
after  all." 

"Take  care,  Lizzy;  that  speech  savors  strongly 
of  disappointment." 

Before  they  were  separated  by  the  conclusion  of 
the  play,  she  had  the  unexpected  happiness  of  an 
invitation  to  accompany  her  uncle  and  aunt  in  a 


228 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


tour  of  pleasure  which  they  proposed  taking  in  the 
summer. 

We  have  not  quite  determined  how  far  it  shall 
carry  us,"  said  Mrs.  Gardiner,  "but  perhaps  to 
the  Lakes." 

No  scheme  could  have  been  more  agreeable  to 
Elizabeth,  and  her  acceptance  of  the  invitation  was 
most  ready  and  grateful.  ''My  dear,  dear  aunt," 
she  rapturously  cried,  ''what  delight,  what  feli- 
city! You  give  me  fresh  life  and  vigor.  Adieu 
to  disappointment  and  spleen.  What  are  men  to 
rocks  and  mountains?  Oh,  what  hours  of  trans- 
port we  shall  spend!  And  when  we  do  return,  it 
shall  not  be  like  other  travellers,  without  being 
able  to  give  one  accurate  idea  of  anything.  We 
will  know  where  we  have  gone,  —  we  will  recollect 
what  we  have  seen.  Lakes,  mountains,  and  rivers 
shall  not  be  jumbled  together  in  our  imaginations ; 
nor,  when  we  attempt  to  describe  any  particular 
scene,  will  we  begin  quarrelling  about  its  relative 
situation.  Let  our  first  effusions  be  less  insupport- 
able than  those  of  the  generality  of  travellers." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


Every  object  in  the  next  day's  journey  was  new 
and  interesting  to  Elizabeth,  and  her  spirits  were 
in  a  state  of  enjoyment ;  for  she  had  seen  her  sister 
looking  so  well  as  to  banish  all  fear  for  her  health, 
and  the  prospect  of  her  northern  tour  was  a  con- 
stant source  of  delight. 

When  they  left  the  high-road  for  the  lane  to 
Hunsford,  every  eye  was  in  search  of  the  Parson- 
age, and  every  turning  expected  to  bring  it  in  view. 
The  paling  of  Rosings  park  was  their  boundary  on 
one  side.  Elizabeth  smiled  at  the  recollection  of 
all  that  she  had  heard  of  its  inhabitants. 

At  length  the  Parsonage  was  discernible.  The 
garden  sloping  to  the  road,  the  house  standing  in 
it,  the  green  pales,  and  the  laurel  hedge,  —  every- 
thing declared  they  were  arriving.  Mr.  Collins  and 
Charlotte  appeared  at  the  door;  and  the  carriage 
stopped  at  the  small  gate,  which  led  by  a  short 
gravel  walk  to  the  house,  amidst  the  nods  and 
smiles  of  the  whole  party.  In  a  moment  they 
were  all  out  of  the  chaise,  rejoicing  at  the  sight 
of  each  other.  Mrs.  Collins  welcomed  her  friend 
with  the  liveliest  pleasure;  and  Elizabeth  was 


230 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


more  and  more  satisfied  with  coming,  when  she 
found  herself  so  affectionately  received.  She  saw 
instantly  that  her  cousin's  manners  were  not 
altered  by  his  marriage:  his  formal  civility  was 
just  what  it  had  been;  and  he  detained  her  some 
minutes  at  the  gate  to  hear  and  satisfy  his  inqui- 
ries after  all  her  family.  They  were  then,  with  no 
other  delay  than  his  pointing  out  the  neatness  of 
the  entrance,  taken  into  the  house;  and  as  soon  as 
they  were  in  the  parlor,  he  welcomed  them  a  second 
time,  with  ostentatious  formality,  to  his  humble 
abode,  and  punctually  repeated  all  his  wife's  offers 
of  refreshment. 

Elizabeth  was  prepared  to  see  him  in  his  glory; 
and  she  could  not  help  fancying  that  in  displaying 
the  good  proportion  of  the  room,  its  aspect,  and  its 
furniture,  he  addressed  himself  particularly  to  her, 
as  if  wishing  to  make  her  feel  what  she  had  lost  in 
refusing  him.  But  though  everything  seemed 
neat  and  comfortable,  she  was  not  able  to  gratify 
him  by  any  sigh  of  repentance,  and  rather  looked 
with  wonder  at  her  friend,  that  she  could  have  so 
cheerful  an  air  with  such  a  companion.  When  Mr. 
Collins  said  anything  of  which  his  wife  might 
reasonably  be  ashamed,  which  certainly  was  not 
seldom,  she  involuntarily  turned  her  eye  on  Char- 
lotte. Once  or  twice  she  could  discern  a  faint 
blush;  but  in  general  Charlotte  wisely  did  not 
hear.    After  sitting  long  enough  to  admire  every 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


231 


article  of  furniture  in  the  room,  from  the  sideboard 
to  the  fender,  to  give  an  account  of  their  journey, 
and  of  all  that  had  happened  in  London,  Mr. 
Collins  invited  them  to  take  a  stroll  in  the  garden, 
which  was  large  and  well  laid  out,  and  to  the  culti- 
vation of  which  he  attended  himself.  To  work  in 
his  garden  was  one  of  his  most  respectable  pleas- 
ures; and  Elizabeth  admired  the  command  of 
countenance  with  which  Charlotte  talked  of  the 
healthfulness  of  the  exercise,  and  owned  she  en- 
couraged it  as  much  as  possible.  Here,  leading 
the  way  through  every  walk  and  cross  walk,  and 
scarcely  allowing  them  an  interval  to  utter  the 
praises  he  asked  for,  every  view  was  pointed  out 
with  a  minuteness  which  left  beauty  entirely  be- 
hind. He  could  number  the  fields  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  could  tell  how  many  trees  there  were  in 
the  most  distant  clump.  But  of  all  the  views 
which  his  garden  or  which  the  country  or  the 
kingdom  could  boast,  none  were  to  be  compared 
with  the  prospect  of  Eosings,  afforded  by  an  open- 
ing in  the  trees  that  bordered  the  park  nearly  oppo- 
site the  front  of  his  house.  It  was  a  handsome 
modern  building,  well  situated  on  rising  ground. 

From  his  garden,  Mr.  Collins  would  have  led 
them  round  his  two  meadows;  but  the  ladies,  not 
having  shoes  to  encounter  the  remains  of  a  white 
frost,  turned  back ;  and  while  Sir  William  accom- 
panied him,  Charlotte  took  her  sister  and  friend 


232  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


over  the  house,  extremely  well  pleased,  probably, 
to  have  the  opportunity  of  showing  it  without  hei 
husband's  help.  It  was  rather  small,  but  well 
built  and  convenient  j  and  everything  was  fitted 
up  and  arranged  with  a  neatness  and  consistency 
of  which  Elizabeth  gave  Charlotte  all  the  credit. 
When  Mr.  Collins  could  be  forgotten,  there  was 
really  a  great  air  of  comfort  throughout;  and  by 
Charlotte's  evident  enjoyment  of  it,  Elizabeth 
supposed  he  must  be  often  forgotten. 

She  had  already  learned  that  Lady  Catherine 
was  still  in  the  country.  It  was  spoken  of  again 
while  they  were  at  dinner,  when  Mr.  Collins,  join- 
ing in,  observed,  — 

*^Yes,  Miss  Elizabeth,  you  will  have  the  honor 
of  seeing  Lady  Catherine  de  Bourgh  on  the  ensu- 
ing Sunday  at  church,  and  I  need  not  say  you  will 
be  delighted  with  her.  She  is  all  affability  and 
condescension,  and  I  doubt  not  but  you  will  be 
honored  with  some  portion  of  her  notice  when 
service  is  over.  I  have  scarcely  any  hesitation  in 
saying  that  she  will  include  you  and  my  sister 
Maria  in  every  invitation  with  which  she  honors 
us  during  your  stay  here.  Her  behavior  to  my 
dear  Charlotte  is  charming.  We  dine  at  Eosings 
twice  every  week,  and  are  never  allowed  to  walk 
home.  Her  Ladyship's  carriage  is  regularly  or- 
dered for  us.  I  should  say,  one  of  her  Ladyship's 
carriages,  for  she  has  several." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  233 


"Lady  Catherine  is  a  very  respectable,  sensible 
woman,  indeed,"  added  Charlotte,  ''and  a  most 
attentive  neighbor." 

''Very  true,  my  dear;  that  is  exactly  what  I 
say.  She  is  the  sort  of  woman  whom  one  cannot 
regard  with  too  much  deference." 

The  evening  was  spent  chiefly  in  talking  over 
Hertfordshire  news,  and  telling  again  what  had 
been  already  written;  and  when  it  closed,  Eliza- 
beth, in  the  solitude  of  her  chamber,  had  to  medi- 
tate upon  Charlotte's  degree  of  contentment,  to 
understand  her  address  in  guiding,  and  composure 
in  bearing  with  her  husband,  and  to  acknowledge 
that  it  was  all  done  very  well.  She  had  also  to 
anticipate  how  her  visit  would  pass,  — the  quiet 
tenor  of  their  usual  employments,  the  vexatious 
interruptions  of  Mr.  Collins,  and  the  gayeties  of 
their  intercourse  with  Rosings.  A  lively  imagina- 
tion soon  settled  it  all. 

About  the  middle  of  the  next  day,  as  she  was  in 
her  room  getting  ready  for  a  walk,  a  sudden  noise 
below  seemed  to  speak  the  whole  house  in  confu- 
sion; and  after  listening  a  moment,  she  heard 
somebody  running  upstairs  in  a  violent  hurry,  and 
calling  loudly  after  her.  She  opened  the  door  and 
met  Maria  in  the  landing-place,  who,  breathless 
with  agitation,  cried  out,  — 

<'0h,  my  dear  Eliza!  pray  make  haste  and  come 
into  the  dining-room,  for  there  is  such  a  sight  to 


234  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


be  seen!  I  will  not  tell  you  what  it  is.  Make 
haste,  and  come  down  this  moment." 

Elizabeth  asked  questions  in  vain ;  Maria  would 
tell  her  nothing  more ;  and  down  they  ran  into  the 
dining-room,  which  fronted  the  lane,  in  quest  of 
this  wonder :  it  was  two  ladies,  stopping  in  a  low 
phaeton  at  the  garden  gate. 

''And  is  this  all?''  cried  Elizabeth.  "I  ex- 
pected at  least  that  the  pigs  were  got  into  the 
garden;  and  here  is  nothing  but  Lady  Catherine 
and  her  daughter!" 

*'La!  my  dear,"  said  Maria,  quite  shocked  at 
the  mistake,  ^'it  is  not  Lady  Catherine.  The  old 
lady  is  Mrs.  Jenkinson,  who  lives  with  them. 
The  other  is  Miss  de  Bourgh.  Only  look  at  her. 
She  is  quite  a  little  creature.  Who  would  have 
thought  she  could  be  so  thin  and  small!" 

*^She  is  abominably  rude  to  keep  Charlotte  out 
of  doors  in  all  this  wind.  Why  does  she  not 
come  in?" 

'^Oh,  Charlotte  says  she  hardly  ever  does.  It 
is  the  greatest  of  favors  when  Miss  de  Bourgh 
comes  in." 

^^I  like  her  appearance,"  said  Elizabeth,  struck 
with  other  ideas.  "She  looks  sickly  and  cross. 
Yes,  she  will  do  for  him  very  well.  She  will 
make  him  a  very  proper  wife." 

Mr.  Collins  and  Charlotte  were  both  standing  at 
the  gate  in  conversation  with  the  ladies ;  and  Sir 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  235 


William,  to  Elizabeth's  high  diversion,  was  star 
tioned  in  the  doorway,  in  earnest  contemplation  of 
the  greatness  before  him,  and  constantly  bowing 
whenever  Miss  de  Bourgh  looked  that  way. 

At  length  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  said; 
the  ladies  drove  on,  and  the  others  returned  into 
the  house.  Mr.  Collins  no  sooner  saw  the  two 
girls  than  he  began  to  congratulate  them  on  their 
good  fortune,  which  Charlotte  explained  by  letting 
them  know  that  the  whole  party  was  asked  to  dine 
at  Kosings  the  next  day. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


Mr.  Colltns's  triumph,  in  consequence  of  this 
invitation,  was  complete.  The  power  of  display- 
ing the  grandeur  of  his  patroness  to  his  wonder- 
ing visitors,  and  of  letting  them  see  her  civility 
towards  himself  and  his  wife,  was  exactly  what  he 
had  wished  for  j  and  that  an  opportunity  of  doing 
it  should  be  given  so  soon  was  such  an  instance 
of  Lady  Catherine's  condescension  as  he  knew  not 
how  to  admire  enough. 

^'I  confess, said  he,  'Hhat  I  should  not  have 
been  at  all  surprised  by  her  Ladyship's  asking  us 
on  Sunday  to  drink  tea  and  spend  the  evening  at 
Rosings.  I  rather  expected,  from  my  knowledge 
of  her  affability,  that  it  would  happen.  But  who 
could  have  foreseen  such  an  attention  as  this? 
Who  could  have  imagined  that  we  should  receive 
an  invitation  to  dine  there  (an  invitation,  more- 
over, including  the  whole  party)  so  immediately 
after  your  arrival?"  '^1  am  the  less  surprised 
at  what  has  happened,"  replied  Sir  William, 
'^from  that  knowledge  of  what  the  manners  of  the 
great  really  are,  which  my  situation  in  life  has  al- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


237 


lowed  me  to  acquire.  About  the  court  such  in- 
stances of  elegant  breeding  are  not  uncommon.'' 

Scarcely  anything  was  talked  of  the  whole  day 
or  next  morning  but  their  visit  to  E-osings.  Mr. 
Collins  was  carefully  instructing  them  in  what 
they  were  to  expect,  that  the  sight  of  such  rooms, 
so  many  servants,  and  so  splendid  a  dinner  might 
not  wholly  overpower  them. 

When  the  ladies  were  separating  for  the  toilette, 
he  said  to  Elizabeth,  — 

^^Do  not  make  yourself  uneasy,  my  dear  cousin, 
about  your  apparel.  Lady  Catherine  is  far  from 
requiring  that  elegance  of  dress  in  us  which  be- 
comes herself  and  daughter.  I  would  advise  you 
merely  to  put  on  whatever  of  your  clothes  is  supe- 
rior to  the  rest ;  there  is  no  occasion  for  anything 
more.  Lady  Catherine  will  not  think  the  worse 
of  you  for  being  simply  dressed.  She  likes  to 
have  the  distinction  of  rank  preserved.'' 

While  they  were  dressing,  he  came  two  or  three 
times  to  their  different  doors,  to  recommend  their 
being  quick,  as  Lady  Catherine  very  much  ob- 
jected to  be  kept  waiting  for  her  dinner.  Such 
formidable  accounts  of  her  Ladyship  and  her  man- 
ner of  living  quite  frightened  Maria  Lucas,  who 
had  been  little  used  to  company;  and  she  looked 
forward  to  her  introduction  at  Rosings  with  as 
much  apprehension  as  her  father  had  done  to  his 
presentation  at  St.  James's. 


238 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


As  the  weather  was  fine,  they  had  a  pleasant 
walk  of  about  half  a  mile  across  the  park.  Every 
park  has  its  beauty  and  its  prospects ;  and  Eliza- 
beth saw  much  to  be  pleased  with,  though  she 
could  not  be  in  such  raptures  as  Mr.  Collins  ex- 
pected the  scene  to  inspire,  and  was  but  slightly 
affected  by  his  enumeration  of  the  windows  in 
front  of  the  house,  and  his  relation  of  what  the 
glazing  altogether  had  originally  cost  Sir  Lewis 
de  Bourgh. 

When  they  ascended  the  steps  to  the  hall, 
Maria's  alarm  was  every  moment  increasing,  and 
even  Sir  William  did  not  look  perfectly  calm. 
Elizabeth's  courage  did  not  fail  her.  She  had 
heard  nothing  of  Lady  Catherine  that  spoke  her 
awful  from  any  extraordinary  talents  or  miracu- 
lous virtue,  and  the  mere  stateliness  of  money 
and  rank  she  thought  she  could  witness  without 
trepidation. 

From  the  entrance  hall,  of  which  Mr.  Collins 
pointed  out,  with  a  rapturous  air,  the  fine  propor- 
tion and  finished  ornaments,  they  followed  the  ser- 
vants through  an  antechamber  to  the  room  where 
Lady  Catherine,  her  daughter,  and  Mrs.  Jenkinson 
were  sitting.  Her  Ladyship,  with  great  conde- 
scension, arose  to  receive  them;  and  as  Mrs.  Col- 
lins had  settled  it  with  her  husband  that  the 
office  of  introduction  should  be  hers,  it  was  per- 
formed in  a  proper  manner,  without  any  of  those 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  239 


apologies  and  thanks  wliicli  he  would  have  thought 
necessary. 

In  spite  of  having  been  at  St.  James's,  Sir  Wil- 
liam was  so  completely  awed  by  the  grandeur  sur- 
rounding him,  that  he  had  but  just  courage  enough 
to  make  a  very  low  bow,  and  take  his  seat  without 
saying  a  word;  and  his  daughter,  frightened  al- 
most out  of  her  senses,  sat  on  the  edge  of  her 
chair,  not  knowing  which  way  to  look.  Elizabeth 
found  herself  quite  equal  to  the  scene,  and  could 
observe  the  three  ladies  before  her  composedly. 
Lady  Catherine  was  a  tall,  large  woman,  with 
strongly  marked  features,  which  might  once  have 
been  handsome.  Her  air  was  not  conciliating, 
nor  was  her  manner  of  receiving  them  such  as  to 
make  her  visitors  forget  their  inferior  rank.  She 
was  not  rendered  formidable  by  silence;  but  what- 
ever she  said  was  spoken  in  so  authoritative  a  tone 
as  marked  her  self-importance,  and  brought  Mr. 
Wickham  immediately  to  Elizabeth's  mind;  and, 
from  the  observation  of  the  day  altogether,  she 
believed  Lady  Catherine  to  be  exactly  what  he 
had  represented. 

When,  after  examining  the  mother,  in  whose 
countenance  and  deportment  she  soon  found  some 
resemblance  of  Mr.  Darcy,  she  turned  her  eyes  on 
the  daughter,  she  could  almost  have  joined  in 
Maria's  astonishment  at  her  being  so  thin  and 
80  small.    There  was  neither  in  figure  nor  face 


240  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


any  likeness  between  the  ladies.  Miss  de  Bourgh 
was  pale  and  sickly;  her  features,  though  not 
plain,  were  insignificant;  and  she  spoke  very 
little,  except  in  a  low  voice,  to  Mrs.  Jenkinson, 
in  whose  appearance  there  was  nothing  remark- 
able, and  who  was  entirely  engaged  in  listening 
to  what  she  said,  and  placing  a  screen  in  the 
proper  direction  before  her  eyes. 

After  sitting  a  few  minutes,  they  were  all  sent 
to  one  of  the  windows  to  admire  the  view,  Mr. 
Collins  attending  them  to  point  out  its  beauties, 
and  Lady  Catherine  kindly  informing  them  that  it 
Was  much  better  worth  looking  at  in  the  summer. 

The  dinner  was  exceedingly  handsome,  and  there 
were  all  the  servants,  and  all  the  articles  of  plate 
which  Mr.  Collins  had  promised;  and  as  he  had 
likewise  foretold,  he  took  his  seat  at  the  bottom  of 
the  table,  by  her  Ladyship's  desire,  and  looked  as 
if  he  felt  that  life  could  furnish  nothing  greater. 
He  carved  and  ate  and  praised  with  delighted 
alacrity;  and  every  dish  was  commended  first  by 
him,  and  then  by  Sir  William,  who  was  now 
enough  recovered  to  echo  whatever  his  son-in-law 
said,  in  a  manner  which  Elizabeth  wondered  Lady 
Catherine  could  bear.  But  Lady  Catherine  seemed 
gratified  by  their  excessive  admiration,  and  gave 
most  gracious  smiles,  especially  when  any  dish  on 
the  table  proved  a  novelty  to  them.  The  party 
did  not  supply  much  conversation.    Elizabeth  was 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


241 


ready  to  speak  whenever  there  was  an  opening; 
but  she  was  seated  between  Charlotte  and  Miss  de 
Bourgh  —  the  former  of  whom  was  engaged  in 
listening  to  Lady  Catherine,  and  the  latter  said 
not  a  word  to  her  all  dinner-time.  Mrs.  Jen- 
kinson  was  chiefly  employed  in  watching  how 
little  Miss  de  Bourgh  ate,  pressing  her  to  try 
some  other  dish,  and  fearing  she  was  indisposed. 
Maria  thought  speaking  out  of  the  question,  and 
the  gentlemen  did  nothing  but  eat  and  admire. 

When  the  ladies  returned  to  the  drawing-room, 
there  was  little  to  be  done  but  to  hear  Lady  Cath- 
erine talk,  which  she  did  without  any  intermission 
till  coffee  came  in,  delivering  her  opinion  on  every 
subject  in  so  decisive  a  manner  as  proved  that  she 
was  not  used  to  have  her  judgment  controverted. 
She  inquired  into  Charlotte's  domestic  concerns 
familiarly  and  minutely,  and  gave  her  a  great  deal 
'^f  advice  as  to  the  management  of  them  all;  told 
her  how  everything  ought  to  be  regulated  in  so 
small  a  family  as  hers,  and  instructed  her  as  to 
the  care  of  her  cows  and  her  poultry.  Elizabeth 
found  that  nothing  was  beneath  this  great  lady's 
attention  which  could  furnish  her  with  an  occasion 
for  dictating  to  others.  In  the  intervals  of  her 
discourse  with  Mrs.  Collins,  she  addressed  a  va- 
riety of  questions  to  Maria  and  Elizabeth,  but  es- 
pecially to  the  latter,  of  whose  connections  she 
knew  the  least,  and  who,  she  observed  to  Mrs. 

VOL.  I.  — 16 


242  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Collins,  was  a  very  genteel,  pretty  kind  of  girl. 
She  asked  lier  at  different  times  how  many  sisters 
she  had,  whether  they  were  older  or  younger  than 
herself,  whether  any  of  them  were  likely  to  be 
married,  whether  they  were  handsome,  where  they 
had  been  educated,  what  carriage  her  father  kept, 
and  what  had  been  her  mother's  maiden  name? 
Elizabeth  felt  all  the  impertinence  of  her  ques- 
tions,  but  answered  them  very  composedly.  Lady 
Catherine  then  observed,  — 

Your  father's  estate  is  entailed  on  Mr.  Collins, 
I  think?  For  your  sake,''  turning  to  Charlotte, 
^'1  am  glad  of  it;  but  otherwise  I  see  no  occasion 
for  entailing  estates  from  the  female  line.  It  was 
not  thought  necessary  in  Sir  Lewis  de  Bourgh's 
family.  Do  you  play  and  sing,  Miss  Bennet?  " 
'^A  little." 

^^Oh,  then  —  some  time  or  other  we  shall  be 
happy  to  hear  you.  Our  instrument  is  a  capital 
one,  probably  superior  to  —  You  shall  try  it  some 
day.    Do  your  sisters  play  and  sing?" 

^^One  of  them  does." 

^'Why  did  not  you  all  learn?  You  ought  all 
to  have  learned.  The  Miss  Webbs  all  play,  and 
their  father  has  not  so  good  an  income  as  yours. 
Do  you  draw?  " 

'''No,  not  at  all." 

*'  What,  none  of  you?  " 

'*  Not  one." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


243 


'^Tliat  is  very  strange.  But  I  suppose  you  had 
no  opportunity.  Your  mother  should  have  taken  you 
to  town  every  spring  for  the  benefit  of  masters.'' 

*'My  mother  would  have  no  objection,  but  my 
father  hates  London." 

"Has  your  governess  left  you?" 
We  never  had  any  governess." 

"No  governess!  How  was  that  possible?  Five 
daughters  brought  up  at  home  without  a  governess ! 
I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing.  Your  mother 
must  have  been  quite  a  slave  to  your  education." 

Elizabeth  could  hardly  help  smiling,  as  she  as- 
sured her  that  had  not  been  the  case. 

"Then  who  taught  you,  who  attended  to 
you?  Without  a  governess  you  must  have  been 
neglected." 

"Compared  with  some  families,  I  believe  we 
were;  but  such  of  us  as  wished  to  learn  never 
wanted  the  means.  We  were  always  encouraged 
to  read,  and  had  all  the  masters  that  were  ne- 
cessary. Those  who  chose  to  be  idle  certainly 
might." 

"Ay,  no  doubt:  but  that  is  what  a  governess 
will  prevent;  and  if  I  had  known  your  mother,  I 
should  have  advised  her  most  strenuously  to  en- 
gage one.  I  always  say  that  nothing  is  to  be  done 
in  education  without  steady  and  regular  instruc- 
tion, and  nobody  but  a  governess  can  give  it.  It 
is  wonderful  how  many  families  I  have  been  the 


244 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


means  of  supplying  in  that  way.  I  am  always 
glad  to  get  a  young  person  well  placed  out.  Four 
nieces  of  Mrs.  Jenkinson  are  most  delightfully 
situated  through  my  means;  and  it  was  but  the 
other  day  that  I  recommended  another  young  per- 
son, who  was  merely  accidentally  mentioned  to 
me,  and  the  family  are  quite  delighted  with  her. 
Mrs.  Collins,  did  I  tell  you  of  Lady  Metcalfe's 
calling  yesterday  to  thank  me?  She  finds  Miss 
Pope  a  treasure.  *Lady  Catherine,'  said  she, 
'you  have  given  me  a  treasure.'  Are  any  of 
your  younger  sisters  out.  Miss  Bennet?" 

'^Yes,  ma'am,  all." 
All!    What,  all  five  out  at  once?    Very  odd! 
And  you  only  the  second!   The  younger  ones  out 
before  the  elder  are  married!  Your  younger  sisters 
must  be  very  young?  " 

"Yes,  my  youngest  is  not  sixteen.  Perhaps 
she  is  full  young  to  be  much  in  company.  But 
really,  ma'am,  I  think  it  would  be  very  hard  upon 
younger  sisters  that  they  should  not  have  their 
share  of  society  and  amusement,  because  the  elder 
may  not  have  the  means  or  inclination  to  marry 
early.  The  last  born  has  as  good  a  right  to  the 
pleasures  of  youth  as  the  first.  And  to  be  kept 
back  on  such  a  motive !  I  think  it  would  not  be 
very  likely  to  promote  sisterly  affection  or  delicacy 
of  mind." 

*^  Upon  my  word,"  said  her  Ladyship,    you  give 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  245 


your  opinion  very  decidedly  for  so  young  a  person. 
Pray,  what  is  your  age?'' 

With  three  younger  sisters  grown  up,"  replied 
Elizabeth,  smiling,  ^^your  Ladyship  can  hardly 
expect  me  to  own  it." 

Lady  Catherine  seemed  quite  astonished  at  not 
receiving  a  direct  answer;  and  Elizabeth  suspected 
herself  to  be  the  first  creature  who  had  ever  dared 
to  trifle  with  so  much  dignified  impertinence. 

You  cannot  be  more  than  twenty,  I  am  surej 
therefore  you  need  not  conceal  your  age." 
am  not  one-and-twenty." 

When  the  gentlemen  had  joined  them,  and 
tea  was  over,  the  card-tables  were  placed.  Lady 
Catherine,  Sir  William,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Collins 
sat  down  to  quadrille;  and  as  Miss  de  Bourgh 
chose  to  play  at  casino,  the  two  girls  had  the 
honor  of  assisting  Mrs.  Jenkinson  to  make  up 
her  party.  Their  table  was  superlatively  stupid. 
Scarcely  a  syllable  was  uttered  that  did  not  relate 
to  the  game,  except  when  Mrs.  Jenkinson  ex- 
pressed her  fears  of  Miss  de  Bourgh's  being  too 
hot  or  too  cold,  or  having  too  much  or  too  little 
light.  A  great  deal  more  passed  at  the  other  table. 
Lady  Catherine  was  generally  speaking,  —  stating 
the  mistakes  of  the  three  others,  or  relating  some 
anecdote  of  herself.  Mr.  Collins  was  employed  in 
agreeing  to  everything  her  Ladyship  said,  thank- 
ing her  for  every  fish  he  won,  and  apologizing  if 


246 


PRIDE  AND  PHEJUDICE. 


he  thought  he  won  too  many.  Sir  William  did 
not  say  much.  He  was  storing  his  memory  with 
anecdotes  and  nohle  names. 

When  Lady  Catherine  and  her  daughter  had 
played  as  long  as  they  chose,  the  tables  were 
broken  up,  the  carriage  was  offered  to  Mrs.  Col- 
lins, gratefully  accepted,  and  immediately  ordered. 
The  party  then  gathered  round  the  fire  to  hear 
Lady  Catherine  determine  what  weather  they  were 
to  have  on  the  morrow.  From  these  instructions 
they  were  summoned  by  the  arrival  of  the  coach; 
and  with  many  speeches  of  thankfulness  on  Mr. 
Collinses  side,  and  as  many  bows  on  Sir  William's, 
they  departed.  As  soon  as  they  had  driven  from 
the  door,  Elizabeth  was  called  on  by  her  cousin 
to  give  her  opinion  of  all  that  she  had  seen  at 
Kosings,  which,  for  Charlotte's  sake,  she  made 
more  favorable  than  it  really  was.  But  her  commen- 
dation, though  costing  her  some  trouble,  could  by 
no  means  satisfy  Mr.  Collins;  and  he  was  very 
soon  obliged  to  take  her  Ladyship's  praise  into 
his  own  hands. 


CHAPTEE  XXX. 


Sir  William  stayed  only  a  week  at  Hunsf ord ; 
but  his  visit  was  long  enough  to  convince  him 
of  his  daughter's  being  most  comfortably  settled, 
and  of  her  possessing  such  a  husband  and  such  a 
neighbor  as  were  not  often  met  with.  While  Sir 
William  was  with  them,  Mr.  Collins  devoted  his 
mornings  to  driving  him  out  in  his  gig  and  show- 
ing him  the  country;  but  when  he  went  away,  the 
whole  family  returned  to  their  usual  employments, 
and  Elizabeth  was  thankful  to  find  that  they  did 
not  see  more  of  her  cousin  by  the  alteration;  for 
the  chief  of  the  time  between  breakfast  and  dinner 
was  now  passed  by  him  either  at  work  in  the  gar- 
den, or  in  reading  and  writing,  and  looking  out  of 
window  in  his  own  book-room,  which  fronted  the 
road.  The  room  in  which  the  ladies  sat  was  back- 
wards. Elizabeth  at  first  had  rather  wondered 
that  Charlotte  should  not  prefer  the  dining-parlor 
for  common  use;  it  was  a  better-sized  room,  and 
had  a  pleasanter  aspect :  but  she  soon  saw  that  her 
friend  had  an  excellent  reason  for  what  she  did, 
for  Mr.  Collins  would  undoubtedly  have  been  much 
less  in  his  own  apartment  had  they  sat  in  one 


248 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


equally  lively;  and  she  gave  Charlotte  credit  for 
the  arrangement. 

From  the  drawing-room  they  could  distinguish 
nothing  in  the  lane,  and  were  indebted  to  Mr. 
Collins  for  the  knowledge  of  what  carriages  went 
along,  and  how  often  especially  Miss  de  Bourgh 
drove  by  in  her  phaeton,  which  he  never  failed 
coming  to  inform  them  of,  though  it  happened 
almost  every  day.  She  not  unfrequently  stopped 
at  the  Parsonage,  and  had  a  few  minutes'  conver- 
sation with  Charlotte,  but  was  scarcely  ever  pre- 
vailed on  to  get  out. 

Very  few  days  passed  in  which  Mr.  Collins  did 
not  walk  to  Kosings,  and  not  many  in  which  his 
wife  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  go  likewise;  and 
till  Elizabeth  recollected  that  there  might  be  other 
family  livings  to  be  disposed  of,  she  could  not  un- 
derstand the  sacrifice  of  so  many  hours.  Now  and 
then  they  were  honored  with  a  call  from  her  Lady- 
ship, and  nothing  escaped  her  observation  that  was 
passing  in  the  room  during  these  visits.  She  ex- 
amined into  their  employments,  looked  at  their 
work,  and  advised  them  to  do  it  differently;  found 
fault  with  the  arrangement  of  the  furniture,  or 
detected  the  housemaid  in  negligence;  and  if  she 
accepted  any  refreshment,  seemed  to  do  it  only  for 
the  sake  of  finding  out  that  Mrs.  Collins's  joints  of 
meat  were  too  large  for  her  family. 

Elizabeth  soon  perceived  that  though  this  great 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  249 


lady  was  not  in  the  commission  of  the  peace  for 
the  county,  she  was  a  most  active  magistrate  in 
her  own  parish,  the  minutest  concerns  of  which 
were  carried  to  her  by  Mr.  Collins ;  and  whenever 
any  of  the  cottagers  were  disposed  to  be  quarrel- 
some, discontented,  or  too  poor,  she  sallied  forth 
into  the  village  to  settle  their  differences,  silence 
their  complaints,  and  scold  them  into  harmony 
and  plenty. 

The  entertainment  of  dining  at  Rosings  was 
repeated  about  twice  a  week;  and  allowing  for 
the  loss  of  Sir  William,  and  there  being  only  one 
card-table  in  the  evening,  every  such  entertain- 
ment was  the  counterpart  of  the  first.  Their  other 
engagements  were  few;  as  the  style  of  living  of 
the  neighborhood  in  general  was  beyond  the  Col- 
linses' reach.  This,  however,  was  no  evil  to 
Elizabeth,  and  upon  the  whole  she  spent  her  time 
comfortably  enough:  there  were  half  hours  of 
pleasant  conversation  with  Charlotte,  and  the 
weather  was  so  fine  for  the  time  of  year  that  she 
had  often  great  enjoyment  out  of  doors.  Her 
favorite  walk,  and  where  she  frequently  went 
while  the  others  were  calling  on  Lady  Catherine, 
was  along  the  open  grove  which  edged  that  side  of 
the  park  where  there  was  a  nice  sheltered  path, 
which  no  one  seemed  to  value  but  herself,  and 
where  she  felt  beyond  the  reach  of  Lady  Catherine's 
curiosity. 


250 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


In  this  quiet  way  the  first  fortnight  of  her  visit 
soon  passed  away.  Easter  was  approaching,  and 
the  week  preceding  it  was  to  bring  an  addition  to 
the  family  at  E-osings,  which  in  so  small  a  circle 
must  be  important.  Elizabeth  had  heard,  soon 
after  her  arrival,  that  Mr.  Darcy  was  expected 
there  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks;  and  though 
there  were  not  many  of  her  acquaintance  whom 
she  did  not  prefer,  his  coming  would  furnish  one 
comparatively  new  to  look  at  in  their  Eosings 
parties,  and  she  might  be  amused  in  seeing  how 
hopeless  Miss  Bingley's  designs  on  him  were,  by 
his  behavior  to  his  cousin,  for  whom  he  was  evi- 
dently destined  by  Lady  Catherine;  who  talked  of 
his  coming  with  the  greatest  satisfaction,  spoke 
of  him  in  terms  of  the  highest  admiration,  and 
seemed  almost  angry  to  find  that  he  had  already 
been  frequently  seen  by  Miss  Lucas  and  herself. 

His  arrival  was  soon  known  at  the  Parsonage; 
for  Mr.  Collins  was  walking  the  whole  morning 
within  view  of  the  lodges  opening  into  Hunsford 
Lane,  in  order  to  have  the  earliest  assurance  of  it; 
and  after  making  his  bow  as  the  carriage  turned 
into  the  park,  hurried  home  with  the  great  intel- 
ligence. On  the  following  morning  he  hastened 
to  Eosings  to  pay  his  respects.  There  were  two 
nephews  of  Lady  Catherine  to  require  them,  for 
Mr.  Darcy  had  brought  with  him  a  Colonel  Fitz- 
william,  the  younger  son  of  his  uncle,  Lord  j 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


251 


and,  to  the  great  surprise  of  all  the  party,  when 
Mr.  Collins  returned,  the  gentlemen  accompanied 
him.  Charlotte  had  seen  them  from  her  husband's 
room,  crossing  the  road,  and  immediately  running 
into  the  other,  told  the  girls  what  an  honor  they 
might  expect,  adding,  — 

^'I  may  thank  you,  Eliza,  for  this  piece  of 
civility.  Mr.  Darcy  would  never  have  come  so 
soon  to  wait  upon  me." 

Elizabeth  had  scarcely  time  to  disclaim  all  right 
to  the  compliment,  before  their  approach  was  an- 
nounced by  the  door-bell,  and  shortly  afterwards 
the  three  gentlemen  entered  the  room.  Colonel 
Fitzwilliam,  who  led  the  way,  was  about  thirty; 
not  handsome,  but  in  person  and  address  most 
truly  the  gentleman.  Mr.  Darcy  looked  just  as 
he  had  been  used  to  look  in  Hertfordshire;  paid 
his  compliments,  with  his  usual  reserve,  to  Mrs. 
Collins;  and  whatever  might  be  his  feelings  to- 
wards her  friend,  met  her  with  every  appearance 
of  composure.  Elizabeth  merely  courtesied  to  him, 
without  saying  a  word. 

Colonel  Fitzwilliam  entered  into  conversation 
directly,  with  the  readiness  and  ease  of  a  well-bred 
man,  and  talked  very  pleasantly;  but  his  cousin, 
after  having  addressed  a  slight  observation  on  the 
house  and  garden  to  Mrs.  Collins,  sat  for  some 
time  without  speaking  to  anybody.  At  length, 
however,  his  civility  was  so  far  awakened  as  to 


252 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


inquire  of  Elizabeth  after  the  health  of  her  family. 
She  answered  him  in  the  usual  way;  and  after  a 
moment's  pause  added,  — 

My  eldest  sister  has  been  in  town  these  three 
months.  Have  you  never  happened  to  see  her 
there? 

She  was  perfectly  sensible  that  he  never  had, 
but  she  wished  to  see  whether  he  would  betray 
any  consciousness  of  what  had  passed  between  the 
Bingleys  and  Jane ;  and  she  thought  he  looked  a 
little  confused  as  he  answered  that  he  had  never 
been  so  fortunate  as  to  meet  Miss  Bennet.  The 
subject  was  pursued  no  further,  and  the  gentlemen 
soon  afterwards  went  away. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


Colonel  Fitzwilliam's  manners  were  very  much 
admired  at  the  Parsonage,  and  the  ladies  all 
felt  that  he  must  add  considerably  to  the  pleasure 
of  their  engagements  at  Kosings.  It  was  some 
days,  however,  before  they  received  any  invitation 
thither,  for  while  there  were  visitors  in  the  house 
they  could  not  be  necessary;  and  it  was  not  till 
Easter-day,  almost  a  week  after  the  gentlemen's 
arrival,  that  they  were  honored  by  such  an  atten- 
tion, and  then  they  were  merely  asked  on  leaving 
church  to  come  there  in  the  evening.  Eor  the 
last  week  they  had  seen  very  little  of  either  Lady 
Catherine  or  her  daughter.  Colonel  Fitzwilliam 
had  called  at  the  Parsonage  more  than  once  dur- 
ing the  time,  but  Mr.  Darcy  they  had  only  seen 
at  church. 

The  invitation  was  accepted,  of  course,  and  at 
a  proper  hour  they  joined  the  party  in  Lady 
Catherine's  drawing-room.  Her  Ladyship  received 
them  civilly,  but  it  was  plain  that  their  company 
was  by  no  means  so  acceptable  as  when  she  could 
get  nobody  else;  and  she  was,  in  fact,  almost  en- 
grossed by  her  nephews,  speaking  to  them,  espe- 


254  PRIDE  AIsD  PREJUDICE. 


cially  to  Darcy,  much  more  than  to  any  other 
person  in  the  room. 

Colonel  Eitzwilliam  seemed  really  glad  to  see 
them:  anything  was  a  welcome  relief  to  him  at 
E-osings;  and  Mrs.  Collins's  pretty  friend  had, 
moreover,  caught  his  fancy  very  much.  He  now 
seated  himself  hy  her,  and  talked  so  agreeably  of 
Kent  and  Hertfordshire,  of  travelling  and  staying 
at  home,  of  new  hooks  and  music,  that  Elizabeth 
had  never  been  half  so  well  entertained  in  that 
room  before;  and  they  conversed  with  so  much 
spirit  and  flow  as  to  draw  the  attention  of  Lady 
Catherine  herself,  as  well  as  of  Mr.  Darcy.  His 
eyes  had  been  soon  and  repeatedly  turned  towards 
them  with  a  look  of  curiosity;  and  that  her  Lady- 
ship after  a  while  shared  the  feeling,  was  more 
openly  acknowledged,  for  she  did  not  scruple  to 
call  out,  — 

^^What  is  that  you  are  saying,  Fitzwilliam? 
What  is  it  you  are  talking  of?  What  are  you 
telling  Miss  Bennet?    Let  me  hear  what  it  is.'^ 

^'We  are  speaking  of  music,  madam,''  said  he, 
when  no  longer  able  to  avoid  a  reply. 

*^0f  music!  Then  pray  speak  aloud.  It  is,  of 
all  subjects,  my  delight.  I  must  have  my  share  in 
the  conversation,  if  you  are  speaking  of  music. 
There  are  few  people  in  England,  I  suppose,  who 
have  more  true  enjoyment  of  music  than  myself, 
or  a  better  natural  taste.    If  I  had  ever  learned, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  255 


I  should  have  been  a  great  proficient.  And  so 
would  Anne,  if  her  health  had  allowed  her  to 
apply.  I  am  confident  that  she  would  have  per- 
formed delightfully.  How  does  Georgiana  get 
on,  Darcy? 

Mr.  Darcy  spoke  with  affectionate  praise  of  his 
sister's  proficiency. 

^^I  am  very  glad  to  hear  such  a  good  account  of 
her,''  said  Lady  Catherine;  ^'and  pray  tell  her 
from  me,  that  she  cannot  expect  to  excel,  if  she 
does  not  practise  a  great  deal." 

assure  you,  madam,"  he  replied,  ^Hhat  she 
does  not  need  such  advice.  She  practises  very 
constantly." 

*'So  much  the  better.  It  cannot  be  done  too 
much;  and  when  I  next  write  to  her,  I  shall 
charge  her  not  to  neglect  it  on  any  account.  I 
often  tell  young  ladies  that  no  excellence  in  music 
is  to  be  acquired  without  constant  practice.  I 
have  told  Miss  Bennet  several  times  that  she  will 
never  play  really  well  unless  she  practises  more; 
and  though  Mrs.  Collins  has  no  instrument,  she  is 
very  welcome,  as  I  have  often  told  her,  to  come 
to  Kosings  every  day,  and  play  on  the  pianoforte 
in  Mrs.  Jenkinson's  room.  She  would  be  in 
nobody's  way,  you  know,  in  that  part  of  the 
house." 

Mr.  Darcy  looked  a  little  ashamed  of  his  aunt's 
ill-breeding,  and  made  no  answer. 


256 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


When  coffee  was  over,  Colonel  Fitzwilliam  re- 
minded Elizabeth  of  having  promised  to  play  to 
him;  and  she  sat  down  directly  to  the  instrument. 
He  drew  a  chair  near  her.  Lady  Catherine  lis- 
tened to  half  a  song,  and  then  talked  as  before  to 
her  other  nephew;  till  the  latter  walked  away 
from  her,  and  moving  with  his  usual  deliberation 
towards  the  pianoforte,  stationed  himself  so  as  to 
command  a  full  view  of  the  fair  performer's  coun- 
tenance. Elizabeth  saw  what  he  was  doing,  and 
at  the  first  convenient  pause  turned  to  him  with 
an  arch  smile,  and  said,  — 

You  mean  to  frighten  me,  Mr.  Darcy,  by  com- 
ing in  all  this  state  to  hear  me.  But  I  will  not 
be  alarmed,  though  your  sister  does  play  so  well. 
There  is  a  stubbornness  about  me  that  never  can 
bear  to  be  frightened  at  the  will  of  others.  My 
courage  always  rises  with  every  attempt  to  intimi- 
date me.'' 

^'1  shall  not  say  that  you  are  mistaken,''  he 
replied,  because  you  could  not  really  believe  me 
to  entertain  any  design  of  alarming  you;  and  I 
have  had  the  pleasure  of  your  acquaintance  long 
enough  to  know  that  you  find  great  enjoyment  in 
occasionally  professing  opinions  which,  in  fact,  are 
not  your  own." 

Elizabeth  laughed  heartily  at  this  picture  of 
herself,  and  said  to  Colonel  Fitzwilliam:  ^^Your 
cousin  will  give  you  a  very  pretty  notion  of  me, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  257 


and  teach  you  not  to  believe  a  word  I  say.  I  am 
particularly  unlucky  in  meeting  with  a  person  so 
well  able  to  expose  my  real  character,  in  a  part  of 
the  world  where  I  had  hoped  to  pass  myself  off 
with  some  degree  of  credit.  Indeed,  Mr.  Darcy, 
it  is  very  ungenerous  in  you  to  mention  all  that 
you  knew  to  my  disadvantage  in  Hertfordshire,  — 
and,  give  me  leave  to  say,  very  impolitic  too,  —  for 
it  is  provoking  me  to  retaliate,  and  such  things 
may  come  out  as  will  shock  your  relations  to 
hear.'' 

'^I  am  not  afraid  of  you,''  said  he,  smilingly. 
Pray  let  me  hear  what  you  have  to  accuse  him 
of,"  cried  Colonel  Fitzwilliam.     ^'1  should  like 
to  know  how  he  behaves  among  strangers." 

^'You  shall  hear,  then  —  but  prepare  for  some- 
thing very  dreadful.  The  first  time  of  my  ever 
seeing  him  in  Hertfordshire,  you  must  know,  was 
at  a  ball,  — and  at  this  ball  what  do  you  think 
he  did?  He  danced  only  four  dances!  I  am  sorry 
to  pain  you,  but  so  it  was.  He  danced  only  four 
dances,  though  gentlemen  were  scarce;  and,  to  my 
certain  knowledge,  more  than  one  young  lady  was 
sitting  down  in  want  of  a  partner.  Mr.  Darcy, 
you  cannot  deny  the  fact." 

^'I  had  not  at  that  time  the  honor  of  know- 
ing any  lady  in  the  assembly  beyond  my  own 
party. " 

*^True;  and  nobody  can  ever  be  introduced  ip 

VOL.  I.  — 17 


258  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


a  ball-room.  Well,  Colonel  Fitzwilliam,  what  do 
I  play  next?    My  fingers  wait  your  orders.'' 

Perhaps,"  said  Darcy,  ^'I  should  have  judged 
better  had  I  sought  an  introduction,  but  I  am  ill- 
qualified  to  recommend  myself  to  strangers." 

Shall  we  ask  your  cousin  the  reason  of  this?'' 
said  Elizabeth,  still  addressing  Colonel  Fitz- 
william.  Shall  we  ask  him  why  a  man  of  sense 
and  education,  and  who  has  lived  in  the  world,  is 
ill-qualified  to  recommend  himself  to  strangers?" 

I  can  answer  your  question,"  said  Fitzwilliam, 
without  applying  to  him.    It  is  because  he  will 
not  give  himself  the  trouble." 

^^I  certainly  have  not  the  talent  which  some 
people  possess,"  said  Darcy,  of  conversing  easily 
with  those  I  have  never  seen  before.  I  cannot 
catch  their  tone  of  conversation,  or  appear  inter- 
ested in  their  concerns,  as  I  often  see  done." 

My  fingers,"  said  Elizabeth,  do  not  move  over 
this  instrument  in  the  masterly  manner  which  I 
see  so  many  women's  do.  They  have  not  the  same 
force  or  rapidity,  and  do  not  produce  the  same  ex- 
pression. But  then  I  have  always  supposed  it  to 
be  my  own  fault,  —  because  I  would  not  take  the 
trouble  of  practising.  It  is  not  that  I  do  not 
believe  my  fingers  as  capable  as  any  other  woman's 
of  superior  execution." 

Darcy  smiled  and  said:  ^^You  are  perfectly 
right.    You  have  employed  youv  time  much  better. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  259 


No  one  admitted  to  the  privilege  of  hearing  you 
can  think  anything  wanting.  We  neither  of  us 
perform  to  strangers." 

Here  they  were  interrupted  by  Lady  Catherine, 
who  called  out  to  know  what  they  were  talking 
of.  Elizabeth  immediately  began  playing  again. 
Lady  Catherine  approached,  and  after  listening 
for  a  few  minutes,  said  to  Darcy,  — 

^^Miss  Bennet  would  not  play  at  all  amiss  if 
she  practised  more,  and  could  have  the  advantage 
of  a  London  master.  She  has  a  very  good  notion 
of  fingering,  though  her  taste  is  not  equal  to 
Anne^s.  Anne  would  have  been  a  delightful  per- 
former, had  her  health  allowed  her  to  learn." 

Elizabeth  looked  at  Darcy  to  see  how  cordially 
he  assented  to  his  cousin's  praise ;  but  neither  at 
that  moment  nor  at  any  other  could  she  discern 
any  symptom  of  love;  and  from  the  whole  of  his 
behavior  to  Miss  de  Bourgh  she  derived  this  com- 
fort for  Miss  Bingley,  that  he  might  have  been 
just  as  likely  to  marry  her,  had  she  been  his 
relation. 

Lady  Catherine  continued  her  remarks  on  Eliza- 
beth's performance,  mixing  with  them  many  in- 
structions on  execution  and  taste.  Elizabeth 
received  them  with  all  the  forbearance  of  civility; 
and  at  the  request  of  the  gentlemen  remained  at 
the  instrument  till  her  Ladyship's  carriage  was 
ready  to  take  them  all  home. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


Elizabeth  was  sitting  by  herself  the  next  morn- 
ing, and  writing  to  Jane,  while  Mrs.  Collins  and 
Maria  were  gone  on  business  into  the  village,  when 
she  was  startled  by  a  ring  at  the  door,  the  certain 
signal  of  a  visitor.  As  she  had  heard  no  carriage, 
she  thought  it  not  unlikely  to  be  Lady  Catherine ; 
and  under  that  apprehension  was  putting  away 
her  half-finished  letter,  that  she  might  escape  all 
impertinent  questions,  when  the  door  opened,  and 
to  her  very  great  surprise  Mr.  Darcy,  and  Mr. 
Darcy  only,  entered  the  room. 

He  seemed  astonished  too  on  finding  her  alone, 
and  apologized  for  his  intrusion  by  letting  her 
know  that  he  had  understood  all  the  ladies  to  be 
within. 

They  then  sat  down,  and  when  her  inquiries 
after  Rosings  were  made,  seemed  in  danger  of 
sinking  into  total  silence.  It  was  absolutely 
necessary,  therefore,  to  think  of  something;  and 
in  this  emergency  recollecting  when  she  had  seen 
him  last  in  Hertfordshire,  and  feeling  curious  to 
know  what  he  would  say  on  the  subject  of  their 
hasty  departure,  she  observed,  — 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


261 


**How  very  suddenly  you  all  quitted  Netherfield 
last  November,  Mr.  Darcy!  It  must  have  been  a 
most  agreeable  surprise  to  Mr.  Bingley  to  see  you 
all  after  him  so  soonj  for  if  I  recollect  right,  he 
went  but  the  day  before.  He  and  his  sisters  were 
well,  I  hope,  when  you  left  London? 
Perfectly  so,  I  thank  you.^' 

She  found  that  she  was  to  receive  no  other  an- 
swer; and  after  a  short  pause,  added,  — 

think  I  have  understood  that  Mr.  Bingley 
has  not  much  idea  of  ever  returning  to  ISTetherfield 
again?" 

have  never  heard  him  say  so;  but  it  is 
probable  that  he  may  spend  very  little  of  his  time 
there  in  future.  He  has  many  friends,  and  he  is 
at  a  time  of  life  when  friends  and  engagements  are 
continually  increasing." 

*^If  he  means  to  be  but  little  at  Netherfield,  it 
would  be  better  for  the  neighborhood  that  he 
should  give  up  the  place  entirely,  for  then  we 
might  possibly  get  a  settled  family  there.  But, 
perhaps,  Mr.  Bingley  did  not  take  the  house  so 
much  for  the  convenience  of  the  neighborhood  as 
for  his  own,  and  we  must  expect  him  to  keep  or 
quit  it  on  the  same  principle." 

should  not  be  surprised,"  said  Darcy,  if 
he  were  to  give  it  up  as  soon  as  any  eligible  pur- 
chase offers." 

Elizabeth  made  no  answer.    She  was  afraid  of 


262  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


talking  longer  of  his  friend;  and  having  nothing 
else  to  say,  was  now  determined  to  leave  the 
trouble  of  finding  a  subject  to  him. 

He  took  the  hint  and  soon  began  with:  '^This 
seems  a  very  comfortable  house.  Lady  Catherine, 
I  believe,  did  a  great  deal  to  it  when  Mr.  Collins 
first  came  to  Hunsford." 

^'1  believe  she  did,  — and  I  am  sure  she  could 
not  have  bestowed  her  kindness  on  a  more  grateful 
object. 

^^Mr.  Collins  appears  very  fortunate  in  his 
choice  of  a  wife." 

^^Yes,  indeed;  his  friends  may  well  rejoice  in 
his  having  met  with  one  of  the  very  few  sensible 
women  who  would  have  accepted  him,  or  have 
made  him  happy  if  they  had.  My  friend  has  an 
excellent  understanding,  —  though  I  am  not  cer- 
tain that  I  consider  her  marrying  Mr.  Collins  as 
the  wisest  thing  she  ever  did.  She  seems  per- 
fectly happy,  however;  and  in  a  prudential  light 
it  is  certainly  a  very  good  match  for  her." 

^^It  must  be  very  agreeable  to  her  to  be  settled 
within  so  easy  a  distance  of  her  own  family  and 
friends.'' 

An  easy  distance  do  you  call  it?  It  is  nearly 
fifty  miles.'' 

And  what  is  fifty  miles  of  good  road?  Little 
more  than  half  a  day's  journey.  Yes,  I  call  it  a 
very  easy  distance." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  263 


^^I  sliould  never  have  considered  the  distance  as 
one  of  the  advantages  of  the  match/'  cried  Eliza- 
beth. ^^I  should  never  have  said  Mrs.  Collins 
was  settled  near  her  family. 

*^It  is  a  proof  of  your  own  attachment  to  Hert- 
fordshire. Anything  beyond  the  very  neighbor- 
hood of  Longbourn,  I  suppose,  would  appear 
far.'' 

As  he  spoke,  there  was  a  sort  of  smile,  which 
Elizabeth  fancied  she  understood ;  he  must  be  sup- 
posing her  to  be  thinking  of  Jane  and  Netherfield, 
and  she  blushed  as  she  answered,  — 

^^I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  a  woman  may  not  be 
settled  too  near  her  family.  The  far  and  the  near 
must  be  relative,  and  depend  on  many  varying 
circumstances.  Where  there  is  fortune  to  make 
the  expense  of  travelling  unimportant,  distance 
becomes  no  evil.  But  that  is  not  the  case  here. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Collins  have  a  comfortable  income, 
but  not  such  a  one  as  will  allow  of  frequent  jour- 
neys; and  I  am  persuaded  my  friend  would  not 
call  herself  near  her  family  under  less  than  half 
the  present  distance." 

Mr.  Darcy  drew  his  chair  a  little  towards  her, 
and  said:  ^^You  cannot  have  a  right  to  such  very 
strong  local  attachment.  You  cannot  have  been 
always  at  Longbourn." 

Elizabeth  looked  surprised.  The  gentleman  ex- 
perienced some  change  of  feeling  j  he  drew  back 


264 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


his  chair,  took  a  newspaper  from  the  table,  and 
glancing  over  it,  said  in  a  colder  voice,  — 

^^Are  you  pleased  with  Kent?'^ 

A  short  dialogue  on  the  subject  of  the  countrj^ 
ensued,  on  either  side  calm  and  concise,  and 
soon  put  an  end  to  by  the  entrance  of  Charlotte 
and  her  sister,  just  returned  from  their  walk. 
The  tete-a-tete  surprised  them.  Mr.  Darcy  related 
the  mistake  which  had  occasioned  his  intruding 
on  Miss  Bennet,  and  after  sitting  a  few  minutes 
longer  without  saying  much  to  anybody,  went 
away. 

^^What  can  be  the  meaning  of  this?''  said 
Charlotte,  as  soon  as  he  was  gone.  ^'My  dear 
Eliza,  he  must  be  in  love  with  you,  or  he  would 
never  have  called  on  us  in  this  familiar  way." 

But  when  Elizabeth  told  of  his  silence,  it  did 
not  seem  very  likely,  even  to  Charlotte's  wishes, 
to  be  the  case;  and  after  various  conjectures,  they 
could  at  last  only  suppose  his  visit  to  proceed  from 
the  difficulty  of  finding  anything  to  do,  which  was 
the  more  probable  from  the  time  of  year.  All 
field  sports  were  over.  Within  doors  there  was 
Lady  Catherine,  books,  and  a  billiard-table,  but 
gentlemen  cannot  be  always  within  doors;  and  in 
the  nearness  of  the  Parsonage,  or  the  pleasantness 
of  the  walk  to  it,  or  of  the  people  who  lived  in  it, 
the  two  cousins  found  a  temptation  from  this 
period  of  walking  thither  almost  every  day.  They 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  265 


called  at  various  times  of  the  morning,  sometimes 
separately,  sometimes  together,  and  now  and  then 
accompanied  by  their  aunt.  It  was  plain  to  them 
all  that  Colonel  Fitzwilliam  came  because  he  had 
pleasure  in  their  society,  —  a  persuasion  which 
of  course  recommended  him  still  more ;  and  Eliza- 
beth was  reminded  by  her  own  satisfaction  in 
being  with  him,  as  well  as  by  his  evident  admi- 
ration, of  her  former  favorite,  George  Wickham; 
and  though  in  comparing  them  she  saw  there  was 
less  captivating  softness  in  Colonel  Eitzwilliam's 
manners,  she  believed  he  might  have  the  best 
informed  mind. 

But  why  Mr.  Darcy  came  so  often  to  the  Par- 
sonage it  was  more  difficult  to  understand.  It 
could  not  be  for  society,  as  he  frequently  sat  there 
ten  minutes  together  without  opening  his  lips; 
and  when  he  did  speak,  it  seemed  the  effect  of 
necessity  rather  than  of  choice,  —  a  sacrifice  to 
propriety,  not  a  pleasure  to  himself.  He  seldom 
appeared  really  animated.  Mrs.  Collins  knew  not 
what  to  make  of  him.  Colonel  Fitzwilliam's  occa- 
sionally laughing  at  his  stupidity  proved  that  he  was 
generally  different,  which  her  own  knowledge  of 
him  could  not  have  told  her;  and  as  she  would 
have  liked  to  believe  this  change  the  effect  of  love, 
and  the  object  of  that  love  her  friend  Eliza,  she 
set  herself  seriously  to  work  to  find  it  out:  she 
watched  him  whenever  they  were  at  Rosings  and 


266  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


whenever  he  came  to  Hunsford,  but  without  much 
success.  He  certainly  looked  at  her  friend  a  great 
deal,  but  the  expression  of  that  look  was  dis- 
putable. It  was  an  earnest,  steadfast  gaze;  but 
she  often  doubted  whether  there  were  much  admi- 
ration in  it,  and  sometimes  it  seemed  nothing  but 
absence  of  mind. 

She  had  once  or  twice  suggested  to  Elizabeth 
the  possibility  of  his  being  partial  to  her,  but  Eliz- 
abeth always  laughed  at  the  idea;  and  Mrs.  Col- 
lins did  not  think  it  right  to  press  the  subject, 
from  the  danger  of  raising  expectations  which 
might  only  end  in  disappointment;  for  in  her 
opinion  it  admitted  not  of  a  doubt  that  all  her 
friend's  dislike  would  vanish  if  she  could  suppose 
him  to  be  in  her  power. 

In  her  kind  schemes  for  Elizabeth,  she  some- 
times planned  her  marrying  Colonel  Fitzwilliam. 
He  was,  beyond  comparison,  the  pleasantest  man : 
he  certainly  admired  her,  and  his  situation  in  life 
was  most  eligible;  but,  to  counterbalance  these 
advantages,  Mr.  Darcy  had  considerable  patronage 
in  the  church,  and  his  cousin  could  have  none 
at  all. 


CHAPTEE  XXXIII. 


More  than  once  did  Elizabeth,  in  her  ramble 
within  the  park,  unexpectedly  meet  Mr.  Darcy. 
She  felt  all  the  perverseness  of  the  mischance  that 
«hould  bring  him  where  no  one  else  was  brought ; 
And,  to  prevent  its  ever  happening  again,  took 
oare  to  inform  him,  at  first,  that  it  was  a  favorite 
haunt  of  hers.  How  it  could  occur  a  second  time, 
therefore,  "was  very  odd!  Yet  it  did,  and  even  a 
third.  It  seemed  like  wilful  ill-nature  or  a  volun- 
tary penance;  for  on  these  occasions  it  was  not 
merely  a  few  formal  inquiries  and  an  awkward 
pause  and  then  away,  but  he  actually  thought  it 
necessary  to  turn  back  and  walk  with  her.  He 
never  said  a  great  deal,  nor  did  she  give  herself 
the  trouble  of  talking  or  of  listening  much ;  but  it 
struck  her  in  the  course  of  their  third  rencounter 
that  he  was  asking  some  odd  unconnected  ques- 
tions, —  about  her  pleasure  in  being  at  Hunsford, 
her  love  of  solitary  walks,  and  her  opinion  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Collinses  happiness;  and  that  in  speak- 
ing of  Rosings,  and  her  not  perfectly  understand- 
ing the  house,  he  seemed  to  expect  that  whenever 
she  came  into  Kent  again,  she  would  be  staying 


268  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


there  too.  His  words  seemed  to  imply  it.  Could 
he  have  Colonel  Fitzwilliam  in  his  thoughts? 
She  supposed,  if  he  meant  anything,  he  must 
mean  an  allusion  to  what  might  arise  in  that  quar- 
ter. It  distressed  her  a  little,  and  she  was  quite 
glad  to  find  herself  at  the  gate  in  the  pales 
opposite  the  Parsonage. 

She  was  engaged  one  day,  as  she  walked,  in  re- 
perusing  Jane's  last  letter,  and  dwelling  on  some 
passages  which  proved  that  Jane  had  not  written 
in  spirits,  when,  instead  of  being  again  surprised 
by  Mr.  Darc}^,  she  saw,  on  looking  up,  that 
Colonel  Fitzwilliam  was  meeting  her.  Putting 
away  the  letter  immediately,  and  forcing  a  smile, 
she  said,  — 

^^I  did  not  know  before  that  you  ever  walked 
this  way." 

^^I  have  been  making  the  tour  of  the  park,"  he 
replied,  ^^as  I  generally  do  every  year,  and  in- 
tended to  close  it  with  a  call  at  the  Parsonage. 
Are  you  going  much  farther?" 

''No;  I  should  have  turned  in  a  moment." 

And  accordingly  she  did  turn,  and  they  walked 
towards  the  Parsonage  together. 

''Do  you  certainly  leave  Kent  on  Saturday?" 
said  she. 

"Yes,  —  if  Darcy  does  not  put  it  off  again. 
But  I  am  at  his  disposal.  He  arranges  the  busi- 
ness just  as  he  pleases.'' 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


269 


'^And  if  not  able  to  please  himself  in  the  ar- 
rangement, he  has  at  least  great  pleasure  in  the 
power  of  choice.  I  do  not  know  anybody  who 
seems  more  to  enjoy  the  power  of  doing  what  he 
likes  than  Mr.  Darcy." 

*'He  likes  to  have  his  own  way  very  well," 
replied  Colonel  Fitzwilliam.  '^But  so  we  all  do. 
It  is  only  that  he  has  better  means  of  having  it 
than  many  others,  because  he  is  rich,  and  many 
others  are  poor.  I  speak  feelingly.  A  younger 
son,  you  know,  must  be  inured  to  self-denial  and 
dependence.'' 

^^In  my  opinion,  the  younger  son  of  an  earl 
can  know  very  little  of  either.  Now,  seriously, 
what  have  you  ever  known  of  self-denial  and  de- 
pendence? When  have  you  been  prevented  by 
want  of  money  from  going  wherever  you  chose,  or 
procuring  anything  you  had  a  fancy  for?" 

These  are  home  questions, —  and  perhaps  I 
cannot  say  that  I  have  experienced  many  hardships 
of  that  nature.  But  in  matters  of  greater  weight 
I  may  suffer  from  the  want  of  money.  Younger 
sons  cannot  marry  where  they  like.'' 

Unless  where  they  like  women  of  fortune, 
which  I  think  the}^  very  often  do." 

^'Our  habits  of  expense  make  us  too  dependent, 
and  there  are  not  many  in  my  rank  of  life  who 
can  afford  to  marry  without  some  attention  to 
money." 


270  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


<^  Is  this/'  thought  Elizabeth,  meant  for  me? 
and  she  colored  at  the  idea;  but  recovering  her- 
self, said  in  a  lively  tone:  "And  pray,  what  is 
the  usual  price  of  an  earl's  younger  son?  Unless 
the  elder  brother  is  very  sickly,  I  suppose  you 
would  not  ask  above  fifty  thousand  pounds.'' 

He  answered  her  in  the  same  style,  and  the 
subject  dropped.  To  interrupt  a  silence  which 
might  make  him  fancy  her  affected  with  what 
had  passed,  she  soon  afterwards  said, — 

"I  imagine  your  cousin  brought  you  down  with 
him  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  having  somebody  at 
his  disposal.  I  wonder  he  does  not  marry,  to 
secure  a  lasting  convenience  of  that  kind.  But, 
perhaps,  his  sister  does  as  well  for  the  present; 
and  as  she  is  under  his  sole  care,  he  may  do  what 
he  likes  with  her." 

"Ko,"  said  Colonel  Titzwilliam,  "that  is  an 
advantage  which  he  must  divide  with  me.  I  am 
joined  with  him  in  the  guardianship  of  Miss  Darcy." 

"Are  you,  indeed?  And  pray,  what  sort  of  a 
guardian  do  you  make  ?  Does  your  charge  give 
you  much  trouble  ?  Young  ladies  of  her  age  are 
sometimes  a  little  difficult  to  manage ;  and  if  she 
has  the  true  Darcy  spirit,  she  may  like  to  have 
her  own  way." 

As  she  spoke,  she  observed  him  looking  at  her 
earnestly;  and  the  manner  in  which  he  immedi- 
ately asked  her  why  she  supposed  Miss  Darcy 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


271 


likely  to  give  them  any  uneasiness,  convinced  her 
that  she  had  somehow  or  other  got  pretty  near  the 
truth.    She  directly  replied, — 

^^You  need  not  be  frightened.  I  never  heard 
any  harm  of  her;  and  I  dare  say  she  is  one  of 
the  most  tractable  creatures  in  the  world.  She 
is  a  very  great  favorite  with  some  ladies  of  my 
acquaintance,  Mrs.  Hurst  and  Miss  Bingley.  I 
think  I  have  heard  you  say  that  you  know  them." 

know  them  a  little.  Their  brother  is  a 
pleasant,  gentlemanlike  man, —  he  is  a  great  friend 
of  Darcy's." 

^^Oh,  yes,''  said  Elizabeth,  dryly;  *'Mr.  Darcy 
is  uncommonly  kind  to  Mr.  Bingley,  and  takes  a 
prodigious  deal  of  care  of  him." 

*'Care  of  him!  Yes,  I  really  believe  Darcy 
does  take  care  of  him  in  those  points  where  he 
most  wants  care.  From  something  that  he  told 
me  in  our  journey  hither,  I  have  reason  to  think 
Bingley  very  much  indebted  to  him.  But  I  ought 
to  beg  his  pardon,  for  I  have  no  right  to  suppose 
that  Bingley  was  the  person  meant.  It  was  all 
conjecture." 

^*What  is  it  you  mean?" 

^^It  is  a  circumstance  which  Darcy  of  course 
could  not  wish  to  be  generally  known,  because  if 
it  were  to  get  round  to  the  lady's  family,  it  would 
be  an  unpleasant  thing." 

You  may  depend  upon  my  not  mentioning  it." 


272 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


^^And  remember  that  I  have  not  much  reason 
for  supposing  it  to  be  Bingley.  What  he  told  me 
was  merely  this:  that  he  congratulated  himself 
on  having  lately  saved  a  friend  from  the  incon- 
veniences of  a  most  imprudent  marriage,  but  with- 
out mentioning  names  or  any  other  particulars; 
and  I  only  suspected  it  to  be  Bingley,  from  be- 
lieving him  the  kind  of  young  man  to  get  into 
a  scrape  of  that  sort,  and  from  knowing  them  to 
have  been  together  the  whole  of  last  summer.'' 

^^Did  Mr.  Darcy  give  you  his  reasons  for  this 
interference? '' 

'^I  understood  that  there  were  some  very  strong 
objections  against  the  lady?'' 

And  what  arts  did  he  use  to  separate  them?  " 
^^He  did  not  talk  to  me  of  his  own  arts,"  said 
Fitzwilliam,  smiling.     ^'He  only  told  me  what  I 
have  now  told  you." 

Elizabeth  made  no  answer,  and  walked  on,  her 
heart  swelling  with  indignation.  After  watching 
her  a  little,  Fitzwilliam  asked  her  why  she  was 
so  thoughtful. 

^^I  am  thinking  of  what  you  have  been  telling 
me,"  said  she.  Your  cousin's  conduct  does  not 
suit  my  feelings.    Why  was  he  to  be  the  judge?  " 

*^You  are  rather  disposed  to  call  his  interfer- 
ence officious?  " 

I  do  not  see  what  right  Mr.  Darcy  had  to  de- 
cide on  the  propriety  of  his  friend's  inclination  j 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  273 


or  why,  upon  his  own  judgment  alone,  he  was  to 
determine  and  direct  in  what  manner  that  friend 
was  to  be  happy.  But,''  she  continued,  recollect- 
ing herself,  ^^as  we  know  none  of  the  particulars, 
it  is  not  fair  to  condemn  him.  It  is  not  to  be  sup- 
posed that  there  was  much  affection  in  the  case." 

<^That  is  not  an  unnatural  surmise,"  said  Fitz- 
william;  *'but  it  is  lessening  the  honor  of  my 
cousin's  triumph  very  sadly." 

This  was  spoken  jestingly,  but  it  appeared  to 
her  so  just  a  picture  of  Mr.  Darcy  that  she  would 
not  trust  herself  with  an  answer;  and  therefore, 
abruptly  changing  the  conversation,  talked  on  in- 
different matters  till  they  reached  the  Parsonage. 
There,  shut  into  her  own  room,  as  soon  as  their 
visitor  left  them,  she  could  think  without  inter- 
ruption of  all  that  she  had  heard.  It  was  not  to 
be  supposed  that  any  other  people  could  be  meant 
than  those  with  whom  she  was  connected.  There 
could  not  exist  in  the  world  two  men  over  whom 
Mr.  Darcy  could  have  such  boundless  influence. 
That  he  had  been  concerned  in  the  measures  taken 
to  separate  Mr.  Bingley  and  Jane,  she  had  never 
doubted  J  but  she  had  always  attributed  to  Miss 
Bingley  the  principal  design  and  arrangement 
of  them.  If  his  own  vanity,  however,  did  not 
mislead  him,  he  was  the  cause  —  his  pride  and 
caprice  were  the  cause  —  of  all  that  Jane  had 
suffered,  and  still  continued  to  suffer.    He  had 

VOL.  I.  — 18 


274 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


ruined  for  a  while  every  hope  of  happiness  for  the 
most  affectionate,  generous  heart  in  the  world  j 
and  no  one  could  say  how  lasting  an  evil  he  might 
have  inflicted. 

There  were  some  very  strong  objections  against 
the  lady,"  were  Colonel  Eitzwilliam's  words;  and 
these  strong  objections  probably  were,  her  hav- 
ing one  uncle  who  was  a  country  attorney,  and 
another  who  was  in  business  in  London. 

^^To  Jane  herself,"  she  exclaimed,  ^' there 
could  be  no  possibility  of  objection, —  all  loveli- 
ness and  goodness  as  she  is!  Her  understanding 
excellent,  her  mind  improved,  and  her  manners 
captivating.  Neither  could  anything  be  urged 
against  my  father,  who,  though  with  some  pecu- 
liarities, has  abilities  which  Mr.  Darcy  himself 
need  not  disdain,  and  respectability  which  he  will 
probably  never  reach."  When  she  thought  of  her 
mother,  indeed,  her  confidence  gave  way  a  little^ 
but  she  would  not  allow  that  any  objections  there 
had  material  weight  with  Mr.  Darcy,  whose  pride, 
she  was  convinced,  would  receive  a  deeper  wound 
from  the  want  of  importance  in  his  friend's  con- 
nections than  from  their  want  of  sense;  and  she 
was  quite  decided,  at  last,  that  he  had  been  partly 
governed  by  this  worst  kind  of  pride,  and  partly 
by  the  wish  of  retaining  Mr.  Bingley  for  his 
sister. 

The  agitation  and  tears  which  the  subject  occa- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


275 


sioned  brought  on  a  headache;  and  it  grew  so 
much  worse  towards  evening  that,  added  to  her 
unwillingness  to  see  Mr.  Darcy,  it  determined 
her  not  to  attend  her  cousins  to  Kosings,  where 
they  were  engaged  to  drink  tea.  Mrs.  Collins, 
seeing  that  she  was  really  unwell,  did  not  press 
her  to  go,  and  as  much  as  possible  prevented  her 
husband  from  pressing  her;  but  Mr.  Collins  could 
not  conceal  his  apprehension  of  Lady  Catherine's 
being  rather  displeased  by  her  staying  at  home. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE 


PART  SECOND 


PRIDE  AND  PKEJUDICE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HEN  they  were  gone,  Elizabeth,  as  if 
intending  to  exasperate  herself  as  much 
as  possible  against  Mr.  Darcy,  chose 
for  her  employment  the  examination  of 
all  the  letters  which  Jane  had  written  to  her  since 
her  being  in  Kent.  They  contained  no  actual 
complaint,  nor  was  there  any  revival  of  past  occur- 
rences, or  any  communication  of  present  suffering. 
But  in  all,  and  in  almost  every  line  of  each,  there 
was  a  want  of  that  cheerfulness  which  had  been 
used  to  characterize  her  style,  and  which,  proceed- 
ing from  the  serenity  of  a  mind  at  ease  with  itself, 
and  kindly  disposed  towards  every  one,  had  been 
scarcely  ever  clouded.  Elizabeth  noticed  every 
sentence  conveying  the  idea  of  uneasiness,  with  an 
attention  which  it  had  hardly  received  on  the  first 
perusal.     Mr.  Darcy's  shameful  boast  of  what 


6 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


misery  he  had  been  able  to  inflict  gave  her  a 
keener  sense  of  her  sister's  sufferings.  It  was 
some  consolation  to  think  that  his  visit  to  Rosings 
was  to  end  on  the  day  after  the  next,  and  a  still 
greater  that  in  less  than  a  fortnight  she  should 
herself  be  with  Jane  again,  and  enabled  to  con- 
tribute to  the  recovery  of  her  spirits,  by  all  that 
affection  could  do. 

She  could  not  think  of  Darcy's  leaving  Kent 
without  remembering  that  his  cousin  was  to  go 
with  him;  but  Colonel  Pitzwilliam  had  made  it 
clear  that  he  had  no  intentions  at  all,  and,  agree- 
able as  he  was,  she  did  not  mean  to  be  unhappy 
about  him. 

While  settling  this  point,  she  was  suddenly 
roused  by  the  sound  of  the  door-bell;  and  her 
spirits  were  a  little  fluttered  by  the  idea  of  its 
being  Colonel  Fitzwilliam  himself,  who  had  once 
before  called  late  in  the  evening,  and  might  now 
come  to  inquire  particularly  after  her.  But  this 
idea  was  soon  banished,  and  her  spirits  were  very 
differently  affected,  when,  to  her  utter  amazement, 
she  saw  Mr.  Darcy  walk  into  the  room.  In  a  hur- 
ried manner  he  immediately  began  an  inquiry  after 
her  health,  imputing  his  visit  to  a  wish  of  hearing 
that  she  were  better.  She  answered  him  with  cold 
civility.  He  sat  down  for  a  few  moments,  and 
then  getting  up  walked  about  the  room.  Eliza- 
beth was  surprised,  but  said  not  a  word.    After  a 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


7 


silence  of  several  minutes,  lie  came  towards  her  in 
an  agitated  manner,  and  thus  began :  — 

^'In  vain  have  I  struggled.  It  will  not  do. 
My  feelings  will  not  be  repressed.  You  must 
allow  me  to  tell  you  how  ardently  I  admire  and 
love  you." 

Elizabeth's  astonishment  was  beyond  expression. 
She  stared,  colored,  doubted,  and  was  silent. 
This  he  considered  sufficient  encouragement,  and 
the  avowal  of  all  that  he  felt  and  had  long  felt  for 
her  immediately  followed.  He  spoke  well;  but 
there  were  feelings  besides  those  of  the  heart  to 
be  detailed,  and  he  was  not  more  eloquent  on  the 
subject  of  tenderness  than  of  pride.  His  sense  of 
her  inferiority,  of  its  being  a  degradation,  of  the 
family  obstacles  which  judgment  had  always  op- 
posed to  inclination,  were  dwelt  on  with  a  warmth 
which  seemed  due  to  the  consequence  he  was 
wounding,  but  was  very  unlikely  to  recommend 
his  suit. 

In  spite  of  her  deeply  rooted  dislike,  she  could 
not  be  insensible  to  the  compliment  of  such  a 
man's  affection;  and  though  her  intentions  did  not 
vary  for  an  instant,  she  was  at  first  sorry  for  the 
pain  he  was  to  receive,  till,  roused  to  resentment 
by  his  subsequent  language,  she  lost  all  compas- 
sion in  anger.  She  tried,  however,  to  compose 
herself  to  answer  him  with  patience,  when  he 
should  have  done.    He  concluded  with  represent- 


8 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


ing  to  her  the  strength  of  that  attachment  which 
in  spite  of  all  his  endeavors  he  had  found  impos- 
sihle  to  conquer,  and  with  expressing  his  hope 
that  it  would  now  be  rewarded  by  her  acceptance 
of  his  hand.  As  he  said  this,  she  could  easily  see 
that  he  had  no  doubt  of  a  favorable  answer.  He 
spoke  of  apprehension  and  anxiety,  but  his  counte- 
nance expressed  real  security.  Such  a  circum- 
stance could  only  exasperate  further ;  and  when  he 
ceased,  the  color  rose  into  her  cheeks,  and  she 
said,  — 

^^In  such  cases  as  this  it  is,  I  believe,  the 
established  mode  to  express  a  sense  of  obligation 
for  the  sentiments  avowed,  however  unequally  they 
may  be  returned.  It  is  natural  that  obligation 
should  be  felt;  and  if  I  could  feel  gratitude,  I 
would  now  thank  you.  But  I  cannot,  —  I  have 
never  desired  your  good  opinion,  and  you  have 
certainly  bestowed  it  most  unwillingly.  I  am 
sorry  to  have  occasioned  pain  to  any  one.  It  has 
been  most  unconsciously  done,  however,  and  I 
hope  will  be  of  short  duration.  The  feelings  which 
you  tell  me  have  long  prevented  the  acknowledg- 
ment of  your  regard  can  have  little  difficulty  in 
overcoming  it  after  this  explanation." 

Mr.  Darcy,  who  was  leaning  against  the  mantel- 
piece with  his  eyes  fixed  on  her  face,  seemed  to 
catch  her  words  with  no  less  resentment  than  sur- 
prise.   His  complexion  became  pale  with  anger, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


9 


and  the  disturbance  of  his  mind  was  visible  in 
every  feature.  He  was  struggling  for  the  appear- 
ance of  composure,  and  would  not  open  his  lips 
till  he  believed  himself  to  have  attained  it.  The 


length,  in  a  voice  of  forced  calmness,  he  said,  — 

^^And  this  is  all  the  reply  which  I  am  to  have 
the  honor  of  expecting!  I  might,  perhaps,  wish 
to  be  informed  why,  with  so  little  endeavor  at 
civility,  I  am  thus  rejected.  But  it  is  of  small 
importance. 

^^I  might  as  well  inquire,''  replied  she,  ^^why, 
with  so  evident  a  design  of  offending  and  inciting 


me,  you  chose  to  tell  me  that  you  liked  me  against 
your  will,  against  your  reason,  and  even  against 
your  character?  Was  not  this  some  excuse  for  in- 
civility, if  I  was  uncivil?  But  I  have  other  provo- 
cations. You  know  I  have.  Had  not  my  own 
feelings  decided  against  you,  had  they  been  indif- 
ferent, or  had  they  even  been  favorable,  do  you 
think  that  any  consideration  would  tempt  me  to 
accept  the  man  who  has  been  the  means  of  ruining, 
perhaps  forever,  the  happiness  of  a  most  beloved 
sister?'' 

As  she  pronounced  these  words,  Mr.  Darcy 
changed  color;  but  the  emotion  was  short,  and  he 
listened  without  attempting  to  interrupt  her  while 
she  continued,  — 

have  every  reason  in  the  world  to  think  iU 


pause  was  to  Elizabeth'i 


s  feelings  dreadful.  At 


10  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


of  you.  No  motive  can  excuse  the  unjust  and  un- 
generous part  you  acted  there.  You  dare  not, 
you  cannot  deny  that  you  have  been  the  principal, 
if  not  the  only  means  of  dividing  them  from  each 
other,  —  of  exposing  one  to  the  censure  of  the  world 
for  caprice  and  instability,  the  other  to  its  derision 
for  disappointed  hopes,  and  involving  them  both 
in  misery  of  the  acutest  kind.'^ 

She  paused,  and  saw  with  no  slight  indignation 
that  he  was  listening  with  an  air  which  proved 
him  wholly  unmoved  by  any  feeling  of  remorse. 
He  even  looked  at  her  with  a  smile  of  affected 
incredulity. 

*'Can  you  deny  that  you  have  done  it?''  she 
repeated. 

With  assumed  tranquillity  he  then  replied: 
have  no  wish  of  denying  that  I  did  everything  in 
my  power  to  separate  my  friend  from  your  sister, 
or  that  I  rejoice  in  my  success.    Towards  him  I 
have  been  kinder  than  towards  myself.'' 

Elizabeth  disdained  the  appearance  of  noticing 
this  civil  reflection;  but  its  meaning  did  not  es- 
cape, nor  was  it  likely  to  conciliate  her. 

*'But  it  is  not  merely  this  affair,"  she  con- 
tinued, on  which  my  dislike  is  founded.  Long 
before  it  had  taken  place,  my  opinion  of  you  was 
decided.  Your  character  was  unfolded  in  the  re- 
cital which  I  received  many  months  ago  from  Mr. 
Wickham.    On  this  subject,  what  can  you  have  to 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


11 


say?  In  what  imaginary  act  of  friendship  can  you 
here  defend  yourself,  or  under  what  misrepresen- 
tation can  you  here  impose  upon  others? 

"  You  take  an  eager  interest  in  that  gentleman's 
concerns,''  said  Darcy,  in  a  less  tranquil  tone  and 
with  a  heightened  color. 

^'Who  that  knows  what  his  misfortunes  have 
heen  can  help  feeling  an  interest  in  him?" 

His  misfortunes!  "  repeated  Darcy,  contempt- 
uously,—  *'yes,  his  misfortunes  have  heen  great 
indeed." 

And  of  your  infliction,"  cried  Elizabeth,  with 
energy.  ^^You  have  reduced  him  to  his  present 
state  of  poverty,  —  comparative  poverty.  You  have 
withheld  the  advantages  which  you  must  know  to 
have  been  designed  for  him.  You  have  deprived 
the  best  years  of  his  life  of  that  independence 
which  was  no  less  his  due  than  his  desert.  You 
have  done  all  this ;  and  yet  you  can  treat  the  mention 
of  his  misfortunes  with  contempt  and  ridicule." 

^'And  this,"  cried  Darcy,  as  he  walked  with 
quick  steps  across  the  room,  is  your  opinion  of 
me!  This  is  the  estimation  in  which  you  hold 
me !  I  thank  you  for  explaining  it  so  fully.  My 
faults  according  to  this  calculation  are  heavy  in- 
deed! But,  perhaps,"  added  he,  stopping  in  his 
walk,  and  turning  towards  her,  ^Hhese  offences 
might  have  been  overlooked,  had  not  your  pride 
been  hurt  by  my  honest  confession  of  the  scruples 


12  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


that  had  long  prevented  my  forming  any  serious 
design.  These  bitter  accusations  might  have  been 
suppressed,  had  I,  with  greater  policy,  concealed 
my  struggles,  and  flattered  you  into  the  belief  of 
my  being  impelled  by  unqualified,  unalloyed  incli- 
nation; by  reason,  by  reflection,  by  everything. 
But  disguise  of  every  sort  is  my  abhorrence.  Nor 
am  I  ashamed  of  the  feelings  I  related.  They 
were  natural  and  just.  Could  you  expect  me  to  re- 
joice in  the  inferiority  of  your  connections,  — to 
congratulate  myself  on  the  hope  of  relations  whose 
condition  in  life  is  so  decidedly  beneath  my 
own? 

Elizabeth  felt  herself  growing  more  angry  every 
moment;  yet  she  tried  to  the  utmost  to  speak  with 
composure  when  she  said,  — 

'*You  are  mistaken,  Mr.  Darcy,  if  you  suppose 
that  the  mode  of  your  declaration  affected  me  in 
any  other  way  than  as  it  spared  me  the  concern 
which  I  might  have  felt  in  refusing  you,  had  you 
behaved  in  a  more  gentlemanlike  manner.'' 

She  saw  him  start  at  this ;  but  he  said  nothing, 
and  she  continued,  — 

You  could  not  have  made  me  the  offer  of  your 
hand  in  any  possible  way  that  would  have  tempted 
me  to  accept  it." 

Again  his  astonishment  was  obvious;  and  he 
looked  at  her  with  an  expression  of  mingled  in 
credulity  and  mortification.    She  went  on,  — 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  13 


'^From  the  very  beginning,  from  the  first  mo- 
ment, I  may  almost  say,  of  my  acquaintance 
with  you,  your  manners,  impressing  me  with  the 
fullest  belief  of  your  arrogance,  your  conceit,  and 
your  selfish  disdain  of  the  feelings  of  others,  were 
such  as  to  form  that  groundwork  of  disapprobation 
on  which  succeeding  events  have  built  so  immova- 
ble a  dislike;  and  I  had  not  known  you  a  month 
before  I  felt  that  you  were  the  last  man  in  the 
world  whom  I  could  ever  be  prevailed  on  to 
marry.'' 

You  have  said  quite  enough,  madam.  I  per- 
fectly comprehend  your  feelings,  and  have  now 
only  to  be  ashamed  of  what  my  own  have  been. 
Forgive  me  for  having  taken  up  so  much  of  your 
time,  and  accept  my  best  wishes  for  your  health 
and  happiness." 

And  with  these  words  he  hastily  left  the  room, 
and  Elizabeth  heard  him  the  next  moment  open 
the  front  door  and  quit  the  house.  The  tumult  of 
her  mind  was  now  painfully  great.  She  knew  not 
how  to  support  herself,  and,  from  actual  weakness, 
sat  down  and  cried  for  half  an  hour.  Her  aston- 
ishment, as  she  reflected  on  what  had  passed,  was 
increased  by  every  review  of  it.  That  she  should 
receive  an  offer  of  marriage  from  Mr.  Darcyj  that 
he  should  have  been  in  love  with  her  for  so  many 
months,  —  so  much  in  love  as  to  wish  to  marry  her 
in  spite  of  all  the  objections  which  had  made  him 


14  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


prevent  his  friend's  marrj^ing  her  sister,  and  which 
must  appear  at  least  with  equal  force  in  his  own 
case,  —  was  almost  incredible !  It  was  gratifying  to 
have  inspired  unconsciously  so  strong  an  affection. 
But  his  pride,  his  abominable  pride,  his  shameless 
avowal  of  what  he  had  done  with  respect  to  Jane, 
his  unpardonable  assurance  in  acknowledging, 
though  he  could  not  justify  it,  and  the  unfeeling 
manner  in  which  he  had  mentioned  Mr.  Wickham, 
his  cruelty  towards  whom  he  had  not  attempted  to 
deny,  soon  overcame  the  pity  which  the  considera- 
tion of  his  attachment  had  for  a  moment  excited. 

She  continued  in  very  agitating  reflections  till 
the  sound  of  Lady  Catherine's  carriage  made  her 
feel  how  unequal  she  was  to  encounter  Charlotte's 
observation,  and  hurried  her  away  to  her  room. 


CHAPTER  11. 


Elizabeth  awoke  the  next  morning  to  the  same 
thoughts  and  meditations  which  had  at  length 
closed  her  eyes.  She  could  not  yet  recover  from 
the  surprise  of  what  had  happened:  it  was  im- 
possible to  think  of  anything  else;  and,  totally 
indisposed  for  employment,  she  resolved  soon  after 
breakfast  to  indulge  herself  in  air  and  exercise. 
She  was  proceeding  directly  to  her  favorite  walk, 
when  the  recollection  of  Mr.  Darcy's  sometimes 
coming  there  stopped  her,  and  instead  of  entering 
the  park,  she  turned  up  the  lane  which  led  her 
farther  from  the  turnpike  road.  The  park  paling 
was  still  the  boundary  on  one  side,  and  she  soon 
passed  one  of  the  gates  into  the  ground. 

After  walking  two  or  three  times  along  that 
part  of  the  lane,  she  was  tempted,  by  the  pleasant, 
ness  of  the  morning,  to  stop  at  the  gates  and  look 
into  the  park.  The  five  weeks  which  she  had  now 
passed  in  Kent  had  made  a  great  difference  in  the 
country,  and  every  day  was  adding  to  the  verdure 
of  the  early  trees.  She  was  on  the  point  of  con- 
tinuing her  walk,  when  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  a 
gentleraau  within  the  sort  of  grove  which  edged 


16 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


the  park:  he  was  moving  that  way;  aud  fearful 
of  its  being  Mr.  Darcy,  she  was  directly  retreat- 
ing. But  the  person  Who  advanced  was  now  near 
enough  to  see  her,  and  stepping  forward  with 
eagerness,  pronounced  her  name.  She  had  turned 
away;  but  on  hearing  herself  called,  though  in  a 
voice  which  proved  it  to  be  Mr.  Darcy,  she  moved 
again  towards  the  gate.  He  had  by  that  time 
reached  it  also;  and  holding  out  a  letter,  which 
she  instinctively  took,  said  with  a  look  of  haughty 
composure:  have  been  walking  in  the  grove 
some  time,  in  the  hope  of  meeting  you.  Will  you 
do  me  the  honor  of  reading  that  letter?  and  then, 
with  a  slight  bow,  turned  again  into  the  planta- 
tion, and  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

With  no  expectation  of  pleasure,  but  with  the 
strongest  curiosity,  Elizabeth  opened  the  letter, 
and  to  her  still  increasing  wonder,  perceived  an 
envelope  containing  two  sheets  of  letter  paper, 
written  quite  through,  in  a  very  close  hand.  The 
envelope  itself  was  likewise  full.  Pursuing  her 
way  along  the  lane,  she  then  began  it.  It  was 
dated  from  Rosings,  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  was  as  follows :  — 

Be  not  alarmed,  madam,  on  receiving  this  letter,  by 
the  apprehension  of  its  containing  any  repetition  of  those 
sentiments,  or  renewal  of  those  offers,  which  were  last 
night  so  disgusting  to  you.  I  write  without  any  inten- 
tion of  paining  you,  or  humbling  myself,  by  dwelling  on 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  17 


wishes  which  for  the  happiness  of  both  cannot  be  too 
soon  forgotten  ;  and  the  effort  which  the  formation  and 
the  perusal  of  this  letter  must  occasion  should  have  been 
spared,  had  not  my  character  required  it  to  be  written 
and  read.  You  must  therefore  pardon  the  freedom 
with  which  I  demand  your  attention ;  your  feelings,  I 
know,  will  bestow  it  unwillingly,  but  I  demand  it  of  your 
justice. 

Two  offences  of  a  very  different  nature,  and  by  no 
means  of  equal  magnitude,  you  last  night  laid  to  my 
charge.  The  first  mentioned  was  that,  regardless  of  the 
sentiments  of  either,  I  had  detached  Mr.  Bingley  from 
your  sister  ;  and  the  other,  that  I  had,  in  defiance  of 
various  claims,  in  defiance  of  honor  and  humanity,  ruined 
the  immediate  prosperity  and  blasted  the  prospects  of 
Mr.  Wickham.  Wilfully  and  wantonly  to  have  thrown 
off  the  companion  of  my  youth,  the  acknowledged  fa- 
vorite of  my  father,  a  young  man  who  had  scarcely  any 
other  dependence  than  on  our  patronage,  and  who  had 
been  brought  up  to  expect  its  exertion,  would  be  a  de- 
pravity to  which  the  separation  of  two  young  persons 
whose  affection  could  be  the  growth  of  only  a  few  weeks 
could  bear  no  comparison.  But  from  the  severity  of  that 
blame  which  was  last  night  so  liberally  bestowed,  respect- 
ing each  circumstance,  I  shall  hope  to  be  in  future  se- 
cured, when  the  following  account  of  my  actions  and 
their  motives  has  been  read.  If  in  the  explanation  of 
them  which  is  due  to  myself  I  am  under  the  necessity  of 
relating  feelings  which  may  be  offensive  to  yours,  I  can 
only  say  that  I  am  sorry.  The  necessity  must  be  obeyed, 
and  further  apology  would  be  absurd. 

I  had  not  been  long  in  Hertfordshire  before  I  saw,  in 
common  with  others,  that  Bingley  preferred  your  elder 
Bister  to  any  other  young  woman  in  the  country.  But  it 
was  not  till  the  evening  of  the  dance  at  Netherfield 

VOL.  II.  —  2 


18 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


that  I  had  any  apprehension  of  his  feeling  a  serious  at- 
tachment. I  had  often  seen  him  in  love  before.  At  that 
ball,  while  I  had  the  honor  of  dancing  with  you,  I  was 
first  made  acquainted,  by  Sir  William  Lucas's  accidental 
information,  that  Bingley's  attentions  to  your  sister  had 
given  rise  to  a  general  expectation  of  their  marriage. 
He  spoke  of  it  as  a  certain  event,  of  which  the  time  alone 
could  be  undecided.  From  that  moment  I  observed  my 
friend's  behavior  attentively  ;  and  I  could  then  perceive 
that  his  partiality  for  Miss  Bennet  was  beyond  what  I 
had  ever  witnessed  in  him.  Your  sister  I  also  watched. 
Her  look  and  manners  were  open,  cheerful,  and  engaging 
as  ever,  but  without  any  symptom  of  peculiar  regard ; 
and  I  remained  convinced,  from  the  evening's  scrutiny, 
that  though  she  received  his  attentions  with  pleasure, 
she  did  not  invite  them  by  any  participation  of  senti- 
ment. If  you  have  not  been  mistaken  here,  I  must 
have  been  in  an  error.  Your  superior  knowledge  of 
your  sister  must  make  the  latter  probable.  If  it  be  so, 
if  I  have  been  misled  by  such  error  to  inflict  pain  on 
her,  your  resentment  has  not  been  unreasonable.  But 
I  shall  not  scruple  to  assert  that  the  serenity  of  your 
sister's  countenance  and  air  was  such  as  might  have  given 
the  most  acute  observer  a  conviction  that,  however  amia- 
ble her  temper,  her  heart  was  not  likely  to  be  easily 
touched.  That  I  was  desirous  of  believing  her  indifferent 
is  certain  ;  but  I  will  venture  to  say  that  my  investiga- 
tions and  decisions  are  not  usually  influenced  by  my 
hopes  or  fears.  I  did  not  believe  her  to  be  indifferent 
because  I  wished  it ;  I  believed  it  on  impartial  convic- 
tion, as  truly  as  I  wished  it  in  reason. 

My  objections  to  the  marriage  were  not  merely  those 
which  I  last  night  acknowledged  to  have  required  the 
utmost  force  of  passion  to  put  aside  in  my  own  case ;  the 
•want  of  connection  could  not  be  so  great  an  evil  to  my 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


19 


friend  as  to  me.  But  there  were  other  causes  of  repug- 
nance, —  causes  which,  though  still  existing,  and  existing 
to  an  equal  degree  in  both  instances,  I  had  myself  en- 
deavored to  forget,  because  they  were  not  immediately 
before  me.  These  causes  must  be  stated,  though  briefly. 
The  situation  of  your  mother's  family,  though  objectiona- 
ble, was  nothing  in  comparison  of  that  total  want  of  pro- 
priety so  frequently,  so  almost  uniformly  betrayed  by 
herself,  by  your  three  younger  sisters,  and  occasionally 
even  by  your  father,  —  pardon  me,  it  pains  me  to  offend 
you.  But  amidst  your  concern  for  the  defects  of  your  near- 
est relations,  and  your  displeasure  at  this  representation  of 
them,  let  it  give  you  consolation  to  consider  that  to  have 
conducted  yourselves  so  as  to  avoid  any  share  of  the  like 
censure  is  praise  no  less  generally  bestowed  on  you  and 
your  eldest  sister  than  it  is  honorable  to  the  sense  and  dis- 
position of  both.  I  will  only  say,  further,  that  from  what 
passed  that  evening  my  opinion  of  all  parties  was  con- 
firmed, and  every  inducement  heightened,  which  could 
have  led  me  before  to  preserve  my  iriend  from  what  I 
esteemed  a  most  unhappy  connection.  He  left  Nether- 
field  for  London  on  the  day  following,  as  you,  I  am  cer- 
tain, remember,  with  the  design  of  soon  returning. 

The  part  which  I  acted  is  now  to  be  explained.  His 
sisters'  uneasiness  had  been  equally  excited  with  my  own  : 
our  coincidence  of  feeling  was  soon  discovered  ;  and,  alike 
sensible  that  no  time  was  to  be  lost  in  detaching  their 
brother,  we  shortly  resolved  on  joining  him  directly  in 
London.  We  accordingly  went  ;  and  there  I  readily 
engaged  in  the  office  of  pointing  out  to  my  friend  the 
certain  evils  of  such  a  choice.  I  described  and  enforced 
them  earnestly.  But  however  this  remonstrance  might 
have  staggered  or  delayed  his  determination,  I  do  not 
suppose  that  it  would  ultimately  have  prevented  the  mar- 
riage, had  it  not  been  seconded  by  the  assurance,  which 


20  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


I  hesitated  not  in  giving:,  of  your  sister's  indifference.  He 
had  before  believed  her  to  return  his  affection  with  sin- 
cere, if  not  with  equal  regard.  But  Bingley  has  great 
natural  modesty,  with  a  stronger  dependence  on  my 
judgment  than  on  his  own.  To  convince  him,  therefore, 
that  he  had  deceived  himself  was  no  very  difficult  point. 
To  persuade  him  against  returning  into  Hertfordshire, 
when  that  conviction  had  been  given,  was  scarcely  the 
work  of  a  moment.  I  cannot  blame  myself  for  having 
done  thus  much.  There  is  but  one  part  of  my  conduct, 
in  the  whole  affair,  on  which  I  do  not  reflect  with  satis- 
faction ;  it  is  that  I  condescended  to  adopt  the  measures 
of  art  so  far  as  to  conceal  from  him  your  sister's  being  in 
town.  I  knew  it  myself,  as  it  was  known  to  Miss  Bing- 
ley; but  her  brother  is  even  yet  ignorant  of  it.  That 
they  might  have  met  without  ill  consequence  is,  perhaps, 
probable ;  but  his  regard  did  not  appear  to  me  enough 
extinguished  for  him  to  see  her  without  some  danger. 
Perhaps  this  concealment,  this  disguise,  was  beneath  me. 
It  is  done,  however,  and  it  was  done  for  the  best.  On  this 
subject  I  have  nothing  more  to  say,  no  other  apology  to 
offer.  If  I  have  wounded  your  sister's  feelings,  it  was 
unknowingly  done;  and  though  the  motives  which  gov- 
erned me  may  to  you  very  naturally  appear  insufficient, 
I  have  not  yet  learned  to  condemn  them. 

With  respect  to  that  other,  more  weighty  accusation, 
of  having  injured  Mr.  Wickham,  I  can  only  refute  it  by 
laying  before  you  the  whole  of  his  connection  with  my 
family.  Of  what  he  has  particularly  accused  me  I  am 
ignorant ;  but  of  the  truth  of  what  I  shall  relate  I  can 
summon  more  than  one  witness  of  undoubted  veracity. 
Mr.  Wickham  is  the  son  of  a  very  respectable  man,  who 
had  for  many  years  the  management  of  all  the  Pemberley 
estates,  and  whose  good  conduct  in  the  discharge  of  his 
trust  naturally  inclined  my  father  to  be  of  service  to  him  ; 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


21 


and  on  George  Wickham,  who  was  his  godson,  his  kind- 
ness was  therefore  liberally  bestowed.  My  father  sup- 
ported him  at  school,  and  afterwards  at  Cambridge ;  most 
important  assistance,  as  his  own  father,  always  poor  from 
the  extravagance  of  his  wife,  would  have  been  unable  to 
give  him  a  gentleman's  education.  My  father  was  not 
only  fond  of  this  young  man's  society,  whose  manners 
were  always  engaging,  he  had  also  the  highest  opinion  of 
him,  and  hoping  the  church  would  be  his  profession,  in- 
tended to  provide  for  him  in  it.  As  for  myself,  it  is 
many,  many  years  since  1  first  began  to  think  of  him  in 
a  very  different  manner.  The  vicious  propensities,  the 
want  of  principle,  which  he  was  careful  to  guard  from 
the  knowledge  of  his  best  friend,  could  not  escape  the 
observation  of  a  young  man  of  nearly  the  same  age  with 
himself,  and  who  had  opportunities  of  seeing  him  in 
unguarded  moments,  which  Mr.  Darcy  could  not  have. 
Here  again  I  shall  give  you  pain,  —  to  what  degree  you 
only  can  tell.  But  whatever  may  be  the  sentiments  which 
Mr.  Wickham  has  created,  a  suspicion  of  their  nature 
shall  not  prevent  me  from  unfolding  his  real  character. 
It  adds  even  another  motive.  My  excellent  father  died 
about  five  years  ago ;  and  his  attachment  to  Mr.  Wick- 
ham was  to  the  last  so  steady  that  in  his  will  he  particu- 
larly recommended  it  to  me  to  promote  his  advancement 
in  the  best  manner  that  his  profession  might  allow,  and 
if  he  took  orders,  desired  that  a  valuable  family  living 
might  be  his  as  soon  as  it  became  vacant.  There  was 
also  a  legacy  of  one  thousand  pounds.  His  own  father 
did  not  long  survive  mine ;  and  within  half  a  year  from 
these  events  Mr.  Wickham  wrote  to  inform  me  that,  hav- 
ing finally  resolved  against  taking  orders,  he  hoped  I 
should  not  think  it  unreasonable  for  him  to  expect  some 
more  immediate  pecuniary  advantage,  in  lieu  of  the  pre- 
ferment, by  which  he  could  not  be  benefited.    He  had 


22  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


some  intention,  he  added,  of  studying  the  law,  and  I  must 
be  aware  that  the  interest  of  one  thousand  pounds  would 
be  a  very  insufficient  support  therein.  I  rather  wished 
than  believed  him  to  be  sincere ;  but,  at  any  rate,  was 
perfectly  ready  to  accede  to  his  proposal.  I  knew  that 
Mr.  Wickham  ought  not  to  be  a  clergyman.  The  busi- 
ness was  therefore  soon  settled.  He  resigned  all  claim 
to  assistance  in  the  church,  were  it  possible  that  he  could 
ever  be  in  a  situation  to  receive  it,  and  accepted  in  re- 
turn three  thousand  pounds.  All  connection  between  us 
seemed  now  dissolved.  I  thought  too  ill  of  him  to  invite 
him  to  Pemberley,  or  admit  his  society  in  town.  In  town, 
I  believe,  he  chiefly  lived,  but  his  studying  the  law  was  a 
mere  pretence ;  and  being  now  free  from  all  restraint,  his 
life  was  a  life  of  idleness  and  dissipation.  For  about 
three  years  I  heard  little  of  him ;  but  on  the  decease  of 
the  incumbent  of  the  living  which  had  been  designed  for 
him,  he  applied  to  me  again  by  letter  for  the  presenta- 
tion. His  circumstances,  he  assured  me,  and  I  had  no 
difficulty  in  believing  it,  were  exceedingly  bad.  He  had 
found  the  law  a  most  unprofitable  study,  and  was  now 
absolutely  resolved  on  being  ordained,  if  I  would  present 
him  to  the  living  in  question,  —  of  which  he  trusted  there 
could  be  little  doubt,  as  he  was  well  assured  that  I  had 
no  other  person  to  provide  for,  and  I  could  not  have  for- 
gotten my  revered  father's  intentions.  You  will  hardly 
blame  me  for  refusing  to  comply  with  this  entreaty,  or 
for  resisting  every  repetition  of  it.  His  resentment  was 
in  proportion  to  the  distress  of  his  circumstances,  —  and 
he  was  doubtless  as  violent  in  his  abuse  of  me  to  others 
as  in  his  reproaches  to  myself.  After  this  period  every 
appearance  of  acquaintance  was  dropped.  How  he  lived, 
I  know  not.  But  last  summer  he  was  again  most  pain- 
fully obtruded  on  my  notice. 

I  must  now  mention  a  circumstance  which  I  would  wish 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


23 


to  forget  myself,  and  which  no  obligation  less  than  the 
present  should  induce  me  to  unfold  to  any  human  being. 
Having  said  thus  much,  I  feel  no  doubt  of  your  secrecy. 
My  sister,  who  is  more  than  ten  years  my  junior,  was  left 
to  the  guardianship  of  my  mother's  nephew,  Colonel  Fitz- 
william,  and  myself.  About  a  year  ago,  she  was  taken 
from  school,  and  an  establishment  formed  for  her  in  Lon- 
don ;  and  last  summer  she  went  with  the  lady  who  pre- 
sided over  it  to  Ramsgate ;  and  thither  also  went  Mr. 
Wickham,  undoubtedly  by  design ;  for  there  proved  to 
have  been  a  prior  acquaintance  between  him  and  Mrs. 
Younge,  in  whose  character  we  were  most  unhappily  de- 
ceived ;  and  by  her  connivance  and  aid  he  so  far  recom- 
mended himself  to  Georgiana,  whose  affectionate  heart 
retained  a  strong  impression  of  his  kindness  to  her  as  a 
child,  that  she  was  persuaded  to  believe  herself  in  love 
and  to  consent  to  an  elopement.  She  was  then  but  fif- 
teen, which  must  be  her  excuse ;  and  after  stating  her 
imprudence,  I  am  happy  to  add  that  I  owed  the  knowl- 
edge of  it  to  herself.  I  joined  them  unexpectedly  a  day 
or  two  before  the  intended  elopement ;  and  then  Georgi- 
ana, unable  to  support  the  idea  of  grieving  and  offending 
a  brother  whom  she  almost  looked  up  to  as  a  father,  ac- 
knowledged the  whole  to  me.  You  may  imagine  what  I 
felt  and  how  I  acted.  Regard  for  my  sister's  credit  and 
feelings  prevented  any  public  exposure;  but  I  wrote  to 
Mr.  Wickham,  who  left  the  place  immediately,  and  Mrs. 
Younge  was  of  course  removed  from  her  charge.  Mr. 
Wickham's  chief  object  was  unquestionably  my  sister's 
fortune,  which  is  thirty  thousand  pounds ;  but  I  cannot 
help  supposing  that  the  hope  of  revenging  himself  on  me 
was  a  strong  inducement.  His  revenge  would  have  been 
complete  indeed. 

This,  madam,  is  a  faithful  narrative  of  every  event  in 
which  we  have  been  concerned  together ;  and  if  you  do 


24 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


not  absolutely  reject  it  as  false,  you  will,  I  hope,  acquit 
me  henceforth  of  cruelty  towards  Mr.  Wickham.  1  know 
not  in  what  manner,  under  what  form  of  falsehood,  he 
has  imposed  on  you ;  but  his  success  is  not  perhaps  to  be 
wondered  at,  ignorant  as  you  previously  were  of  every- 
thing concerning  either.  Detection  could  not  be  in  your 
power,  and  suspicion  certainly  not  in  your  inclination. 
You  may  possibly  wonder  why  all  this  was  not  told  you 
last  night.  But  I  was  not  then  master  enough  of  myself 
to  know  what  could  or  ought  to  be  revealed.  For  the 
truth  of  everything  here  related,  I  can  appeal  more  par- 
ticularly to  the  testimony  of  Colonel  Fitzwilliam,  who, 
from  our  near  relationship  and  constant  intimacy,  and 
still  more  as  one  of  the  executors  of  my  father's  will,  has 
been  unavoidably  acquainted  with  every  particular  of 
these  transactions.  If  your  abhorrence  of  me  should 
make  my  assertions  valueless,  you  cannot  be  prevented 
by  the  same  cause  from  confiding  in  my  cousin ;  and  that 
there  may  be  the  possibility  of  consulting  him,  I  shall  en- 
deavor to  find  some  opportunity  of  putting  this  letter  in 
your  hands  in  the  course  of  the  morning.  I  will  only 
addj  God  bless  you. 

Fitzwilliam  Darcy. 


CHAPTEE  III. 


If  Elizabeth,  when  Mr.  Darcy  gave  her  the  letter, 
did  not  expect  it  to  contain  a  renewal  of  his  offers, 
she  had  formed  no  expectation  at  all  of  its  con- 
tents. But  such  as  they  were,  it  may  be  well  sup- 
posed how  eagerly  she  went  through  them,  and 
what  a  contrariety  of  emotion  they  excited.  Her 
feelings  as  she  read  were  scarcely  to  be  defined. 
With  amazement  did  she  first  understand  that  he 
believed  any  apology  to  be  in  his  power;  and 
steadfastly  was  she  persuaded  that  he  could  have 
no  explanation  to  give  which  a  just  sense  of  shame 
would  not  conceal.  With  a  strong  prejudice 
against  everything  he  might  say,  she  began  his 
account  of  what  had  happened  at  Netherfield.  She 
read  with  an  eagerness  which  hardly  left  her  power 
of  comprehension;  and  from  impatience  of  know- 
ing what  the  next  sentence  might  bring,  was  in- 
capable of  attending  to  the  sense  of  the  one  before 
her  eyes.  His  belief  of  her  sister's  insensibility 
she  instantly  resolved  to  be  false ;  and  his  account 
of  the  real,  the  worst  objections  to  the  match 
made  her  too  angry  to  have  any  wish  of  doing  him 
justice.    He  expressed  no  regret  for  what  he  had 


26 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


done  which  satisfied  her;  his  style  was  not  peni- 
tent, but  haughty.    It  was  all  pride  and  insolence. 

But  when  this  subject  was  succeeded  by  his 
account  of  Mr.  Wickham,  —  when  she  read,  with 
somewhat  clearer  attention,  a  relation  of  events 
which,  if  true,  must  overthrow  every  cherished 
opinion  of  his  worth,  and  which  bore  so  alarming 
an  affinity  to  his  own  history  of  himself,  —  her 
feelings  were  yet  more  acutely  painful  and  more 
difficult  of  definition.  Astonishment,  apprehen- 
sion, and  even  horror  oppressed  her.  She  wished 
to  discredit  it  entirely,  repeatedly  exclaiming, 
'^This  must  be  false!  This  cannot  be!  This 
must  be  the  grossest  falsehood!  "  and  when  she 
had  gone  through  the  whole  letter,  though  scarcely 
knowing  anything  of  the  last  page  or  two,  put 
it  hastily  away,  protesting  that  she  would  not 
regard  it,  that  she  would  never  look  in  it  again. 

In  this  perturbed  state  of  mind,  with  thoughts 
that  could  rest  on  nothing,  she  walked  on;  but  it 
would  not  do :  in  half  a  minute  the  letter  was  un- 
folded again;  and  collecting  herself  as  well  as  she 
could,  she  again  began  the  mortifying  perusal  of 
all  that  related  to  Wickham,  and  commanded  her- 
self so  far  as  to  examine  the  meaning  of  every 
sentence.  The  account  of  his  connection  with  the 
Pemberley  family  was  exactly  what  he  had  related 
himself ;  and  the  kindness  of  the  late  Mr.  Darcy, 
though  she  had  not   before   known  its  extent, 


PEIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


27 


agreed  equally  well  with  his  own  words.  So  far 
each  recital  confirmed  the  other;  but  when  she 
came  to  the  will,  the  difference  was  great.  What 
Wickham  had  said  of  the  living  was  fresh  in  her 
memory;  and  as  she  recalled  his  very  words,  it 
was  impossible  not  to  feel  that  there  was  gross 
duplicity  on  one  side  or  the  other,  and  for  a  few 
moments  she  flattered  herself  that  her  wishes  did 
not  err.  But  when  she  read  and  re-read,  with  the 
closest  attention,  the  particulars  immediately  fol- 
lowing of  AVickham's  resigning  all  pretensions  to 
the  living,  of  his  receiving  in  lieu  so  considerable 
a  sum  as  three  thousand  pounds,  again  was  she 
forced  to  hesitate.  She  put  down  the  letter, 
weighed  every  circumstance  with  what  she  meant 
to  be  impartiality,  deliberated  on  the  probability 
of  each  statement,  but  with  little  success.  On 
both  sides  it  was  only  assertion.  Again  she  read 
on.  But  every  line  proved  more  clearly  that  the 
affair,  which  she  had  believed  it  impossible  that 
any  contrivance  could  so  represent  as  to  render 
Mr.  Darcy's  conduct  in  it  less  than  infamous,  was 
capable  of  a  turn  which  must  make  him  entirely 
blameless  throughout  the  whole. 

The  extravagance  and  general  profligacy  which 
he  scrupled  not  to  lay  to  Mr.  Wickham 's  charge 
exceedingly  shocked  her ;  the  more  so,  as  she  could 
bring  no  proof  of  its  injustice.  She  had  never 
heard  of  him  before  his  entrance  into  the  shire 


28 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


militia,  in  which  he  had  engaged  at  the  persuasion 
of  the  young  man  who,  on  meeting  him  accident- 
ally in  town,  had  there  renewed  a  slight  acquaint- 
ance. Of  his  former  way  of  life,  nothing  had  been, 
known  in  Hertfordshire  but  what  he  told  himself. 
As  to  his  real  character,  had  information  been  in 
her  power,  she  had  never  felt  a  wish  of  inquiring. 
His  countenance,  voice,  and  manner  had  estab- 
lished him  at  once  in  the  possession  of  every 
virtue.  She  tried  to  recollect  some  instance  of 
goodness,  some  distinguished  trait  of  integrity  or 
benevolence,  that  might  rescue  him  from  the  at- 
tacks of  Mr.  Darcy ;  or  at  least,  by  the  predominance 
of  virtue,  atone  for  those  casual  errors  under  which 
she  would  endeavor  to  class  what  Mr.  Darcy  had 
described  as  the  idleness  and  vice  of  many  years' 
continuance.  But  no  such  recollection  befriended 
her.  She  could  see  him  instantly  before  her,  in 
every  charm  of  air  and  address ;  but  she  could  re- 
member no  more  substantial  good  than  the  general 
approbation  of  the  neighborhood,  and  the  regard 
which  his  social  powers  had  gained  him  in  the 
mess.  After  pausing  on  this  point  a  considerable 
while,  she  once  more  continued  to  read.  But, 
alas !  the  story  which  followed,  of  his  designs  on 
Miss  Darcy,  received  some  confirmation  from  what 
had  passed  between  Colonel  Fitzwilliam  and  her- 
self only  the  morning  before ;  and  at  last  she  was 
referred  for  the  truth  of  every  particular  to  Colonel 


PillDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


29 


Fitzwilliam  himself,  —  from  whom  she  had  previ- 
ously received  the  information  of  his  near  concern 
in  all  his  cousin's  affairs,  and  whose  character  she 
had  no  reason  to  question.  At  one  time  she  had 
almost  resolved  on  applying  to  him;  but  the  idea 
was  checked  by  the  awkwardness  of  the  applica- 
tion, and  at  length  wholly  banished  by  the  con- 
viction that  Mr.  Darcy  would  never  have  hazarded 
such  a  proposal,  if  he  had  not  been  well  assured 
of  his  cousin's  corroboration. 

She  perfectly  remembered  everything  that  had 
passed  in  conversation  between  Wickham  and  her- 
self in  their  first  evening  at  Mr.  Philips's.  Many 
of  his  expressions  were  still  fresh  in  her  memory. 
She  was  now  struck  with  the  impropriety  of  such 
communications  to  a  stranger,  and  wondered  it 
had  escaped  her  before.  She  saw  the  indelicacy  of 
putting  himself  forward  as  he  had  done,  and  the 
inconsistency  of  his  professions  with  his  conduct. 
She  remembered  that  he  had  boasted  of  having  no 
fear  of  seeing  Mr.  Darcy,  —  that  Mr.  Darcy  might 
leave  the  country,  but  that  he  should  stand  his 
ground;  yet  he  had  avoided  the  Netherfield  ball 
the  very  next  week.  She  remembered,  also,  that 
till  the  Netherfield  family  had  quitted  the  coun- 
try, he  had  told  his  story  to  no  one  but  herself, 
but  that  after  their  removal  it  had  been  every- 
where discussed;  that  he  had  then  no  reserves,  no 
Bcruples  in  sinking  Mr.  Darcy's  character,  though 


30 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


he  had  assured  her  that  respect  for  the  father 
would  always  prevent  his  exposing  the  son. 

How  differently  did  everything  now  appear  in 
which  he  was  concerned!  His  attentions  to  Miss 
King  were  now  the  consequence  of  views  solely 
and  hatefully  mercenary;  and  the  mediocrity  of 
her  fortune  proved  no  longer  the  moderation  of  his 
wishes,  but  his  eagerness  to  grasp  at  anything. 
His  behavior  to  herself  could  now  have  had  no 
tolerable  motive :  he  had  either  been  deceived  with 
regard  to  her  fortune,  or  had  been  gratifying  his 
vanity  by  encouraging  the  preference  which  she 
believed  she  had  most  incautiously  shown.  Every 
lingering  struggle  in  his  favor  grew  fainter  and 
fainter;  and  in  further  justification  of  Mr.  Darcy, 
she  could  not  but  allow  that  Mr.  Bingley,  when 
questioned  by  Jane,  had  long  ago  asserted  his 
blamelessness  in  the  affair;  that,  proud  and  re- 
pulsive as  were  his  manners,  she  had  never,  in 
the  whole  course  of  their  acquaintance,  —  an  ac- 
quaintance which  had  latterly  brought  them  much 
together,  and  given  her  a  sort  of  intimacy  with 
his  ways,  — seen  anything  that  betrayed  him  to 
be  unprincipled  or  unjust,  anything  that  spoke 
him  of  irreligious  or  immoral  habits;  that  among 
his  own  connections  he  was  esteemed  and  valued, 
—  that  even  Wickham  had  allowed  him  merit  as  a 
brother,  and  that  she  had  often  heard  him  speak 
so  affectionately  of  his  sister  as  to  prove  him  capa- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


31 


ble  of  some  amiable  feeling;  that  had  his  actions 
been  what  Wickham  represented  them,  so  gross  a 
violation  of  everything  right  could  hardly  have 
been  concealed  from  the  world;  and  that  friend- 
ship between  a  person  capable  of  it  and  such  an 
amiable  man  as  Mr.  Bingley  was  incomprehensible. 

She  grew  absolutely  ashamed  of  herself.  Of 
neither  Darcy  nor  Wickham  could  she  think, 
without  feeling  that  she  had  been  blind,  partial, 
prejudiced,  absurd. 

How  despicably  have  I  acted! she  cried, — 
who  have  prided  myself  on  my  discernment,  — 
I,  who  have  valued  myself  on  my  abilities,  who 
have  often  disdained  the  generous  candor  of  my 
sister,  and  gratified  my  vanity  in  useless  or  blame- 
less distrust!  How  humiliating  is  this  discovery! 
Yet  how  just  a  humiliation !  Had  I  been  in  love, 
I  could  not  have  been  more  wretchedly  blind. 
But  vanity,  not  love,  has  been  my  folly.  Pleased 
with  the  preference  of  one,  and  offended  by  the 
neglect  of  the  other,  on  the  very  beginning  of  our 
acquaintance,  I  have  courted  prepossession  and 
ignorance,  and  driven  reason  away  where  either 
was  concerned.  Till  this  moment  I  never  knew 
myself.'' 

From  herself  to  Jane,  from  Jane  to  Bingley,  her 
thoughts  were  in  a  line  which  soon  brought  to  her 
recollection  that  Mr.  Darcy's  explanation  there 
had  appeared  very  insufficient;  and  she  read  it 


32 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


again.  Widely  different  was  the  effect  of  a  second 
perusal.  How  could  she  deny  that  credit  to  his 
assertions,  in  one  instance,  which  she  had  heen 
ohliged  to  give  in  the  other?  He  declared  himself 
to  have  been  totally  unsuspicious  of  her  sister's 
attachment;  and  she  could  not  help  remembering 
what  Charlotte's  opinion  had  always  been.  Keither 
could  she  deny  the  justice  of  his  description  of 
Jane.  She  felt  that  Jane's  feelings,  though  fer- 
vent, were  little  displayed,  and  that  there  was  a 
constant  complacency  in  her  air  and  manner,  not 
often  united  with  great  sensibility. 

When  she  came  to  that  part  of  the  letter  in 
which  her  family  were  mentioned  in  terms  of 
such  mortifying  yet  merited  reproach,  her  sense 
of  shame  was  severe.  The  justice  of  the  charge 
struck  her  too  forcibly  for  denial ;  and  the  circum- 
stances to  which  he  particularly  alluded,  as  having 
passed  at  the  Netherfield  ball,  and  as  confirming 
all  his  first  disapprobation,  could  not  have  made  a 
stronger  impression  on  his  mind  than  on  hers. 

The  compliment  to  herself  and  her  sister  was 
not  unfelt.  It  soothed,  but  it  could  not  console 
her  for  the  contempt  which  had  been  thus  self- 
attracted  by  the  rest  of  her  family;  and  as  she 
considered  that  Jane's  disappointment  had,  in 
fact,  been  the  work  of  her  nearest  relations,  and 
reflected  how  materially  the  credit  of  both  must 
be  hurt  by  such  impropriety  of  conduct,  she  felt 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  33 


depressed  beyond  anything  she  had  ever  known 
before. 

After  wandering  along  the  lane  for  two  hours, 
giving  way  to  every  variety  of  thought,  reconsider- 
ing events,  determining  probabilities,  and  recon- 
ciling herself,  as  well  as  she  could,  to  a  change  so 
sudden  and  so  important,  fatigue,  and  a  recollec- 
tion of  her  long  absence,  made  her  at  length  return 
home ;  and  she  entered  the  house  with  the  wish  of 
appearing  cheerful  as  usual,  and  the  resolution  of 
repressing  such  reflections  as  must  make  her  unfit 
for  conversation. 

She  was  immediately  told  that  the  two  gentle- 
men from  Kosings  had  each  called  during  her 
absence,  —  Mr.  Darcy,  only  for  a  few  minutes,  to 
take  leave ;  but  that  Colonel  Fitzwilliam  had  been 
sitting  with  them  at  least  an  hour,  hoping  for  her 
return,  and  almost  resolving  to  walk  after  her  till 
she  could  be  found.  Elizabeth  could  but  just 
affect  concern  in  missing  him;  she  really  rejoiced 
at  it.  Colonel  Fitzwilliam  was  no  longer  an  ob- 
ject.   She  could  think  only  of  her  letter. 


VOL.  II. — 3 


CHAPTER  IV. 


The  two  gentlemen  left  E-osings  tlie  next  morn- 
ing; and  Mr.  Collins  having  been  in  waiting  near 
the  lodges,  to  make  them  his  parting  obeisance, 
was  able  to  bring  home  the  pleasing  intelligence 
of  their  appearing  in  very  good  health,  and  in 
as  tolerable  spirits  as  could  be  expected  after 
the  melancholy  scene  so  lately  gone  through  at 
E-osings.  To  Rosings  he  then  hastened  to  console 
Lady  Catherine  and  her  daughter;  and  on  his  re- 
turn brought  back,  with  great  satisfaction,  a  mes- 
sage from  her  Ladyship,  importing  that  she  felt 
herself  so  dull  as  to  make  her  very  desirous  of 
having  them  all  to  dine  with  her. 

Elizabeth  could  not  see  Lady  Catherine  without 
recollecting  that,  had  she  chosen  it,  she  might  by 
this  time  have  been  presented  to  her  as  her  future 
niece;  nor  could  she  think,  without  a  smile,  of 
what  her  Ladyship's  indignation  would  have  been. 
*^What  would  she  have  said?  How  would  she 
have  behaved? were  questions  with  which  she 
amused  herself. 

Their  first  subject  was  the  diminution  of  the 
Rosings'  party.       I  assure  you,  I  feel  it  exceed- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


35 


ingly/'  said  Lady  Catherine.  ^^I  believe  nobody 
feels  the  loss  of  friends  so  much  as  I  do.  But  I 
am  particularly  attached  to  these  young  men,  and 
know  them  to  be  so  much  attached  to  me !  They 
were  excessively  sorry  to  go!  But  so  they  always 
are.  The  dear  Colonel  rallied  his  spirits  tolerably 
till  just  at  last;  but  Darcy  seemed  to  feel  it  most 
acutel}^,  —  more,  I  think,  than  last  year.  His  at- 
tachment to  E,osings  certainly  increases.'' 

Mr.  Collins  had  a  compliment  and  an  allusion 
to  throw  in  here,  which  were  kindly  smiled  on  by 
the  mother  and  daughter. 

Lady  Catherine  observed,  after  dinner,  that 
Miss  Bennet  seemed  out  of  spirits;  and  immedi- 
ately accounting  for  it  herself,  by  supposing  that 
she  did  not  like  to  go  home  again  so  soon,  she 
added,  — 

But  if  that  is  the  case,  you  must  write  to  your 
mother  to  beg  that  you  may  stay  a  little  longer. 
Mrs.  Collins  will  be  very  glad  of  your  company,  I 
am  sure.'' 

I  am  much  obliged  to  your  Ladyship  for  your 
kind  invitation,"  replied  Elizabeth;  ^^but  it  is 
not  in  my  power  to  accept  it.  I  must  be  in  town 
next  Saturday." 

^^Why,  at  that  rate,  you  will  have  been  here 
only  six  weeks.  I  expected  you  to  stay  two 
months.  I  told  Mrs.  Collins  so  before  you  came. 
There  can  be  no  occasion  for  your  going  so  soon. 


36 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Mrs.  Bennet  could  certainly  spare  you  for  another 
fortnight.'' 

^^But  my  father  cannot.  He  wrote  last  week  to 
hurry  my  return." 

Oh,  your  father,  of  course,  may  spare  you,  if 
your  mother  can.  Daughters  are  never  of  so  much 
consequence  to  a  father.  And  if  you  will  stay 
another  month  complete,  it  will  he  in  my  power 
to  take  one  of  you  as  far  as  London,  for  I  am 
going  there  early  in  June,  for  a  week;  and  as 
Dawson  does  not  object  to  the  barouche-box,  there 
will  be  very  good  room  for  one  of  you  —  and,  in- 
deed, if  the  weather  should  happen  to  be  cool,  I 
should  not  object  to  taking  you  both,  as  you  are 
neither  of  you  large." 

'^You  are  all  kindness,  madam;  but  I  believe 
we  must  abide  by  our  original  plan." 

Lady  Catherine  seemed  resigned.  ^'Mrs.  Col- 
lins, you  must  send  a  servant  with  them.  You 
know  I  always  speak  my  mind,  and  I  cannot  bear 
the  idea  of  two  young  women  travelling  post  by 
themselves.  It  is  highly  improper.  You  must 
contrive  to  send  somebody.  I  have  the  greatest 
dislike  in  the  world  to  that  sort  of  thing.  Young 
women  should  always  be  properly  guarded  and  at- 
tended, according  to  their  situation  in  life.  When 
my  niece  Georgiana  went  to  Eamsgate  last  sum- 
mer, I  made  a  point  of  her  having  two  men-ser- 
vants go  with  her.    Miss  Darcy,  the  daughter  of 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


37 


Mr.  Darcy  of  Pemberley,  and  Lady  Anne,  could 
not  have  appeared  with  propriety  in  a  different 
manner.  I  am  excessively  attentive  to  all  those 
things.  You  must  send  John  with  the  young 
ladies,  Mrs.  Collins.  I  am  glad  it  occurred  to  me 
to  mention  it;  for  it  would  really  be  discreditable 
to  you  to  let  them  go  alone." 

^^My  uncle  is  to  send  a  servant  for  us.'' 

^^Oh!  Your  uncle!  He  keeps  a  man-servant, 
does  he?  I  am  very  glad  you  have  somebody  who 
thinks  of  those  things.  Where  shall  you  change 
horses?  Oh,  Bromley,  of  course.  If  you  mention 
my  name  at  the  Bell,  you  will  be  attended  to.'' 

Lady  Catherine  had  many  other  questions  to 
ask  respecting  their  journey;  and  as  she  did  not 
answer  them  all  herself,  attention  was  necessary, 
which  Elizabeth  believed  to  be  lucky  for  her,  or, 
with  a  mind  so  occupied,  she  might  have  forgotten 
where  she  was.  Eeflection  must  be  reserved  for 
solitary  hours:  whenever  she  was  alone,  she  gave 
way  to  it  as  the  greatest  relief;  and  not  a  day 
went  by  without  a  solitary  walk,  in  which  she 
might  indulge  in  all  the  delight  of  unpleasant 
recollections. 

Mr.  Darcy 's  letter  she  was  in  a  fair  way  of  soon 
knowing  by  heart.  She  studied  every  sentence; 
and  her  feelings  towards  its  writer  were  at  times 
widely  different.  When  she  remembered  the  style 
of  his  address,  she  was  still  full  of  indignation: 


38 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


but  when  she  considered  how  unjustly  she  had 
condemned  and  upbraided  him,  her  anger  was 
turned  against  herself;  and  his  disappointed  feel- 
ings became  the  object  of  compassion.  His  at- 
tachment excited  gratitude,  his  general  character 
respect :  but  she  could  not  approve  him ;  nor  could 
she  for  a  moment  repent  her  refusal,  or  feel  the 
slightest  inclination  ever  to  see  him  again.  In 
her  own  past  behavior  there  was  a  constant  source 
of  vexation  and  regret;  and  in  the  unhappy  defects 
of  her  family,  a  subject  of  yet  heavier  chagrin. 
They  were  hopeless  of  remedy.  Her  father,  con- 
tented with  laughing  at  them,  would  never  exert 
himself  to  restrain  the  wild  giddiness  of  his  young- 
est daughters;  and  her  mother,  with  manners  so 
far  from  right  herself,  was  entirely  insensible  of 
the  evil.  Elizabeth  had  frequently  united  with 
Jane  in  an  endeavor  to  check  the  imprudence  of 
Catherine  and  Lydia;  but  while  they  were  sup- 
ported by  their  mother's  indulgence,  what  chance 
could  there  be  of  improvement?  Catherine,  weak- 
spirited,  irritable,  and  completely  under  Lydia' s 
guidance,  had  been  always  affronted  by  their  ad- 
vice; and  Lydia,  self-willed  and  careless,  would 
scarcely  give  them  a  hearing.  They  were  ignorant, 
idle,  and  vain.  While  there  was  an  officer  in 
Meryton,  they  would  flirt  with  him;  and  while 
Meryton  was  within  a  walk  of  Longbourn,  they 
would  be  going  there  forever. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


39 


Anxiety  on  Jane's  behalf  was  another  prevail- 
ing concern;  and  Mr.  Darcy's  explanation,  by 
restoring  Bingley  to  all  her  former  good  opinion, 
heightened  the  sense  of  what  Jane  had  lost.  His 
affection  was  proved  to  have  been  sincere,  and  his 
conduct  cleared  of  all  blame,  unless  any  could 
attach  to  the  implicitness  of  his  confidence  in  his 
friend.  How  grievous  then  was  the  thought  that,  of 
a  situation  so  desirable  in  every  respect,  so  replete 
with  advantage,  so  promising  for  happiness,  Jane 
had  been  deprived  by  the  folly  and  indecorum  of 
her  own  family! 

When  to  these  recollections  was  added  the 
development  of  Wickham's  character,  it  may  be 
easily  believed  that  the  happy  spirits  which  had 
seldom  been  depressed  before  were  now  so  much 
affected  as  to  make  it  almost  impossible  for  her 
to  appear  tolerably  cheerful. 

Their  engagements  at  Eosings  were  as  frequent 
during  the  last  week  of  her  stay  as  they  had  been 
at  first.  The  very  last  evening  was  spent  there; 
and  her  Ladyship  again  inquired  minutely  into 
the  particulars  of  their  journey,  gave  them  direc- 
tions as  to  the  best  method  of  packing,  and  was  so 
urgent  on  the  necessity  of  placing  gowns  in  the 
only  right  way,  that  Maria  thought  herself  obliged, 
on  her  return,  to  undo  all  the  work  of  the  morning, 
and  pack  her  trunk  afresh. 


40 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


When  they  parted,  Lady  Catherine,  with  great 
condescension,  wished  them  a  good  journey,  and 
invited  them  to  come  to  Hunsford  again  next  year; 
and  Miss  de  Bourgh  exerted  herself  so  far  as  to 
courtesy  and  hold  out  her  hand  to  both. 


CHAPTER  V. 


On  Saturday  morning  Elizabeth  and  Mr.  Collins 
met  for  breakfast  a  few  minutes  before  the  others 
appeared;  and  he  took  the  opportunity  of  pajdng 
the  parting  civilities  which  he  deemed  indispensa- 
bly necessary. 

I  know  not,  Miss  Elizabeth, "  said  he,  whether 
Mrs.  Collins  has  yet  expressed  her  sense  of  your 
kindness  in  coming  to  us ;  but  I  am  very  certain 
you  will  not  leave  the  house  without  receiving  her 
thanks  for  it.  The  favor  of  your  company  has 
been  much  felt,  I  assure  you.  We  know  how 
little  there  is  to  tempt  any  one  to  our  humble 
abode.  Our  plain  manner  of  living,  our  small 
rooms,  and  few  domestics,  and  the  little  we  see  of 
the  world,  must  make  Hunsford  extremely  dull  to 
a  young  lady  like  yourself;  but  I  hope  you  will 
believe  us  grateful  for  the  condescension,  and  that 
we  have  done  everything  in  our  power  to  prevent 
your  spending  your  time  unpleasantly.'' 

Elizabeth  was  eager  with  her  thanks  and  assur- 
ances of  happiness.  She  had  spent  six  weeks  with 
great  enjoyment;  and  the  pleasure  of  being  with 
Charlotte,  and  the  kind  attentions  she  had  received, 


42 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


must  make  her  feel  the  obliged.  Mr.  Collins  was 
gratified;  and  with  a  more  smiling  solemnity 
replied,  — 

^^It  gives  me  the  greatest  pleasure  to  hear  that 
you  have  passed  your  time  not  disagreeably.  We 
have  certainly  done  our  best ;  and  most  fortunately 
having  it  in  our  power  to  introduce  you  to  very 
superior  society,  and  from  our  connection  with 
Kosings,  the  frequent  means  of  varying  the  humble 
home  scene,  I  think  we  may  flatter  ourselves  that 
your  Hunsford  visit  cannot  have  been  entirely  irk- 
some. Our  situation  with  regard  to  Lady  Cathe- 
rine's family  is,  indeed,  the  sort  of  extraordinary 
advantage  and  blessing  which  few  can  boast.  You 
see  on  what  a  footing  we  are.  You  see  how  con- 
tinually we  are  engaged  there.  In  truth,  I  must 
acknowledge  that  with  all  the  disadvantages  of 
this  humble  parsonage,  I  should  not  think  any 
one  abiding  in  it  an  object  of  compassion,  while 
they  are  sharers  of  our  intimacy  at  Rosings.'' 

Words  were  insufficient  for  the  elevation  of  his 
feelings;  and  he  was  obliged  to  walk  about  the 
room,  while  Elizabeth  tried  to  unite  civility  and 
truth  in  a  few  short  sentences. 

You  may,  in  fact,  carry  a  very  favorable  report 
of  us  into  Hertfordshire,  my  dear  cousin.  I  flatter 
myself,  at  least,  that  you  will  be  able  to  do  so. 
Lady  Catherine's  great  attentions  to  Mrs.  Collins 
you  have  been  a  daily  witness  of;  and  altogether 


PRIDE  AND  PREJXJDICE. 


43 


I  trust  it  does  not  appear  that  your  friend  has 
drawn  an  unfortunate  —  But  on  this  point  it  will 
be  as  well  to  be  silent.  Only  let  me  assure  you, 
my  dear  Miss  Elizabeth,  that  I  can  from  my  heart 
most  cordially  wish  you  equal  felicity  in  marriage. 
My  dear  Charlotte  and  I  have  but  one  mind  and 
one  way  of  thinking.  There  is  in  everything  a 
most  remarkable  resemblance  of  character  and  ideas 
between  us.  We  seem  to  have  been  designed  for 
each  other.'' 

Elizabeth  could  safely  say  that  it  was  a  great 
happiness  where  that  was  the  case,  and  with  equal 
sincerity  could  add  that  she  firmly  believed  and 
rejoiced  in  his  domestic  comforts.  She  was  not 
sorry,  however,  to  have  the  recital  of  them  inter- 
rupted by  the  entrance  of  the  lady  from  whom  they 
sprang.  Poor  Charlotte!  it  was  melancholy  to 
leave  her  to  such  society!  But  she  had  chosen  it 
with  her  eyes  open ;  and  though  evidently  regret- 
ting that  her  visitors  were  to  go,  she  did  not  seem 
to  ask  for  compassion.  Her  home  and  her  house- 
keeping, her  parish  and  her  poultry,  and  all 
their  dependent  concerns  had  not  yet  lost  their 
charms. 

At  length  the  chaise  arrived,  the  trunks  were 
fastened  on,  the  parcels  placed  within,  and  it  was 
pronounced  to  be  ready.  After  an  affectionate 
parting  between  the  friends,  Elizabeth  was  at- 
tended to  the  carriage  by  Mr.  Collins ;  and  as  they 


44 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


walked  down  the  garden,  he  was  commissioning 
her  with  his  best  respects  to  all  her  family,  not 
forgetting  his  thanks  for  the  kindness  he  had 
received  at  Longbourn  in  the  winter,  and  his  com- 
pliments to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gardiner,  though  un- 
known. He  then  handed  her  in,  Maria  followed, 
and  the  door  was  on  the  point  of  being  closed, 
when  he  suddenly  reminded  them,  with  some  con- 
sternation, that  they  had  hitherto  forgotten  to 
leave  any  message  for  the  ladies  of  Rosings. 

^^But,^'  he  added,  ^'youwillof  course  wish  to 
have  your  humble  respects  delivered  to  them,  with 
your  grateful  thanks  for  their  kindness  to  you 
while  you  have  been  here.'^ 

Elizabeth  made  no  objection :  the  door  was  then 
allowed  to  be  shut,  and  the  carriage  drove  off. 

Good  gracious!"  cried  Maria,  after  a  few 
minutes'  silence;  ^'it  seems  but  a  day  or  two  since 
we  first  came,  and  yet  how  many  things  have 
happened!  " 

^^A  great  many,  indeed, said  her  companion, 
with  a  sigh. 

^<  We  have  dined  nine  times  at  Eosings,  besides 
drinking  tea  there  twice !  How  much  I  shall  have 
to  tell!'' 

Elizabeth  privately  added,  ^^And  how  much  I 
shall  have  to  conceal." 

Their  journey  was  performed  without  much  con- 
versation or  any  alarm ;  and  within  four  hours  of 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  45 


their  leaving  Hunsford  they  reached  Mr.  Gardi- 
ner's house,  where  they  were  to  remain  a  few 
days. 

Jane  looked  well,  and  Elizabeth  had  little  op- 
portunity of  studying  her  spirits,  amidst  the  vari- 
ous engagements  which  the  kindness  of  her  aunt 
had  reserved  for  them.  But  Jane  was  to  go  home 
with  her,  and  at  Longbourn  there  would  be  leisure 
enough  for  observation. 

It  was  not  without  an  effort,  meanwhile,  that 
she  could  wait  even  for  Longbourn,  before  she  told 
her  sister  of  Mr.  Darcy's  proposals.  To  know  that 
she  had  the  power  of  revealing  what  would  so 
exceedingly  astonish  Jane,  and  must  at  the  same 
time  so  highly  gratify  whatever  of  her  own  vanity 
she  had  not  yet  been  able  to  reason  away,  was  such 
a  temptation  to  openness  as  nothing  could  have 
conquered  but  the  state  of  indecision  in  which 
she  remained  as  to  the  extent  of  what  she  should 
communicate,  and  her  fear,  if  she  once  entered  on 
the  subject,  of  being  hurried  into  repeating  some- 
thing of  Bingley,  which  might  only  grieve  her 
sister  further. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


It  was  the  second  week  in  May  in  which  the 
three  young  ladies  set  out  together  from  Grace- 
church  Street  for  the  town  of  ,  in  Hertford- 
shire; and  as  they  drew  near  the  appointed  inn 
where  Mr.  Bennet's  carriage  was  to  meet  them, 
they  quickly  perceived,  in  token  of  the  coachman's 
punctuality,  both  Kitty  and  Lydia  looking  out  of  a 
dining-room  uj^stairs.  These  two  girls  had  been 
above  an  hour  in  the  place,  happily  employed  in 
visiting  an  opposite  milliner,  watching  the  sentinel 
on  guard,  and  dressing  a  salad  and  cucumber. 

After  welcoming  their  sisters,  they  triumphantly 
displayed  a  table  set  out  with  such  cold  meat  as 
an  inn  larder  usually  affords,  exclaiming,  ^'Is  not 
this  nice?    Is  not  this  an  agreeable  surprise?" 

And  we  mean  to  treat  you  all,''  added  Lydia; 
^'but  you  must  lend  us  the  money,  for  we  have 
just  spent  ours  at  the  shop  out  there."  Then 
showing  her  purchases :  Look  here,  I  have  bought 
this  bonnet.  I  do  not  think  it  is  very  pretty;  but 
I  thought  I  might  as  well  buy  it  as  not.  I  shall 
pull  it  to  pieces  as  soon  as  I  get  home,  and  see 
if  I  can  make  it  up  any  better." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


47 


And  when  her  sisters  abused  it  as  ngly,  she 
added,  with  perfect  unconcern:  ^'Oh,  but  there 
were  two  or  three  much  uglier  in  the  shop;  and 
when  I  have  bought  some  prettier-colored  satin 
to  trim  it  with  fresh,  I  think  it  will  be  very 
tolerable.     Besides,   it   will   not   much  signify 

what  one  wears  this  summer,  after  the   shire 

have  left  Meryton;  and  they  are  going  in  a 
fortnight. 

^^Are  they,  indeed?"  cried  Elizabeth,  with  the 
greatest  satisfaction. 

They  are  going  to  be  encamped  near  Brighton; 
and  I  do  so  want  papa  to  take  us  all  there  for  the 
summer!  It  would  be  such  a  delicious  scheme, 
and  I  dare  say  would  hardly  cost  anything  at  all. 
Mamma  would  like  to  go,  too,  of  all  things !  Only 
think  what  a  miserable  summer  else  we  shall 
have!" 

^^Yes,"  thought  Elizabeth;  ^Hhat  would  be  a 
delightful  scheme,  indeed,  and  completely  do  for  us 
at  once.  Good  Heaven!  Brighton  and  a  whole 
campful  of  soldiers,  to  us,  who  have  been  overset 
already  by  one  poor  regiment  of  militia,  and  the 
monthly  balls  of  Meryton!'' 

'^Now  I  have  got  some  news  for  you,"  said 
Lydia,  as  they  sat  down  to  table.  ^'  What  do  you 
think?  It  is  excellent  news,  capital  news,  and 
about  a  certain  person  that  we  all  like." 

Jane  and  Elizabeth  looked  at  each  other,  and 


48  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


the  waiter  was  told  that  he  need  not  stay.  Lydia 
laughed,  and  said,  — 

*^Ay,  that  is  just  like  your  formality  and  dis- 
cretion. You  thought  the  waiter  must  not  hear. 
As  if  he  cared!  I  dare  say  he  often  hears  worse 
things  said  than  I  am  going  to  say.  But  he  is  an 
ugly  fellow!  I  am  glad  he  is  gone.  I  never  saw 
such  a  long  chin  in  my  life.  Well,  but  now  for 
my  news :  it  is  about  dear  Wickham ;  too  good  for 
the  waiter,  is  not  it?  There  is  no  danger  of 
Wickham's  marrying  Mary  King,  —  there 's  for 
you!  She  is  gone  down  to  her  uncle  at  Liver- 
pool,—  gone  to  stay.    Wickham  is  safe." 

*'And  Mary  King  is  safe,"  added  Elizabeth,  — 
''safe  from  a  connection  imprudent  as  to  fortune." 

''She  is  a  great  fool  for  going  away,  if  she 
liked  him.'^ 

"But  I  hope  there  is  no  strong  attachment  on 
either  side,"  said  Jane. 

"I  am  sure  there  is  not  on  his.  I  will  answer 
for  it,  he  never  cared  three  straws  about  her.  Who 
could  about  such  a  nasty  little  freckled  thing?  " 

Elizabeth  was  shocked  to  think  that,  however  in- 
capable of  such  coarseness  of  expression  herself, 
the  coarseness  of  the  sentiment  was  little  other 
than  her  own  breast  had  formerly  harbored  and 
fancied  liberal! 

As  soon  as  all  had  ate,  and  the  elder  ones  paid, 
the  carriage  was  ordered;  and  after  some  contriv- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


49 


ance  the  whole  party,  with  all  their  hoxes,  work- 
hags,  and  parcels,  and  the  unwelcome  addition  of 
Kitty's  and  Lydia's  purchases,  were  seated  in  it. 
How  nicely  we  are  crammed  in! cried  Lydia. 
I  am  glad  I  brought  my  bonnet,  if  it  is  only  for  the 
fun  of  having  another  bandbox !  Well,  now  let  us 
be  quite  comfortable  and  snug,  and  talk  and  laugh 
all  the  way  home.  And  in  the  first  place,  let  us 
hear  what  has  happened  to  you  all  since  you  went 
away.  Have  you  seen  any  pleasant  men?  Have 
you  had  any  flirting?  I  was  in  great  hopes  that  one 
of  you  would  have  got  a  husband  before  you  came 
back.  Jane  will  be  quite  an  old  maid  soon,  I  de- 
clare. She  is  almost  three-and-twenty !  Lord! 
how  ashamed  I  should  be  of  not  being  married 
before  three-and-twenty!  My  aunt  Philips  wants 
you  so  to  get  husbands,  you  can't  think.  She 
says  Lizzy  had  better  have  taken  Mr.  Collins ;  but 
I  do  not  think  there  would  have  been  any  fun  in 
it.  Lord!  how  I  should  like  to  be  married  before 
any  of  you !  and  then  I  would  chaperon  you  about 
to  all  the  balls.  Dear  me!  we  had  such  a  good 
piece  of  fun  the  other  day  at  Colonel  Forster's! 
Kitty  and  me  were  to  spend  the  day  there,  and 
Mrs.  Forster  promised  to  have  a  little  dance  in 
the  evening  (by  the  by,  Mrs.  Forster  and  me  are 
such  friends !) ;  and  so  she  asked  the  two  Harring- 
tons to  come.  But  Harriet  was  ill,  and  so  Pen  was 
forced  to  come  by  herself;  and  then,  what  do  you 

VOL.  II.  —  4 


50 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


think  we  did?  We  dressed  up  Chamberlayne  in 
woman's  clothes,  on  purpose  to  pass  for  a  lady,  — 
only  think  what  fun !  Not  a  soul  knew  of  it,  but 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Forster,  and  Kitty  and  me,  ex- 
cept my  aunt,  for  we  were  forced  to  borrow  one  of 
her  gowns;  and  you  cannot  imagine  how  well  he 
looked!  When  Denny  and  Wickham  and  Pratt 
and  two  or  three  more  of  the  men  came  in,  they 
did  not  know  him  in  the  least.  Lord!  how  I 
laughed!  and  so  did  Mrs.  Forster.  I  thought  I 
should  have  died.  And  that  made  the  men  sus- 
pect something,  and  then  they  soon  found  out  what 
was  the  matter." 

With  such  kind  of  histories  of  their  parties  and 
good  jokes  did  Lj^dia,  assisted  by  Kitty's  hints 
and  additions,  endeavor  to  amuse  her  companions 
all  the  way  to  Longbourn.  Elizabeth  listened  as 
little  as  she  could,  but  there  was  no  escaping  the 
frequent  mention  of  Wickham's  name. 

Their  reception  at  home  was  most  kind.  Mrs. 
Bennet  rejoiced  to  see  Jane  in  undiminished  beauty ; 
and  more  than  once  during  dinner  did  Mr.  Bennet 
say  voluntarily  to  Elizabeth,  — 

^^I  am  glad  you  are  come  back,  Lizzy." 

Their  party  in  the  dining-room  was  large,  for 
almost  all  the  Lucases  came  to  meet  Maria  and 
hear  the  news;  and  various  were  the  subjects 
which  occupied  them :  Lady  Lucas  was  inquiring 
of  Maria,  across  the  table,  after  the  welfare  and 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


51 


poultry  of  her  eldest  daughter;  Mrs.  Bennet  was 
doubly  engaged,  on  one  hand  collecting  an  account 
of  the  present  fashions  from  Jane,  who  sat  some 
way  below  her,  and  on  the  other,  retailing  them 
all  to  the  younger  Miss  Lucases;  and  Lydia,  in  a 
voice  rather  louder  than  any  other  person's,  was 
enumerating  the  various  pleasures  of  the  morning 
to  anybody  who  would  hear  her. 

^'Oh,  Mary,"  said  she,  ^'I  wish  you  had  gone 
with  us,  for  we  had  such  fun !  As  we  went  along, 
Kitty  and  me  drew  up  all  the  blinds,  and  pre- 
tended there  was  nobody  in  the  coach;  and  I 
should  have  gone  so  all  the  way,  if  Kitty  had  not 
been  sick ;  and  when  we  got  to  the  George,  I  do 
think  we  behaved  very  handsomely,  for  we  treated 
the  other  three  with  the  nicest  cold  luncheon  in 
the  world,  and  if  you  would  have  gone,  we  would 
have  treated  you  too.  And  then  when  we  came 
away  it  was  such  fun!  I  thought  we  never  should 
have  got  into  the  coach.  I  was  ready  to  die  of 
laughter.  And  then  we  were  so  merry  all  the  way 
home !  We  talked  and  laughed  so  loud  that  an}^- 
body  might  have  heard  us  ten  miles  off !  " 

To  this,  Mary  very  gravely  replied:  <^Far  be  it 
from  me,  my  dear  sister,  to  depreciate  such  pleas- 
ures. They  would  doubtless  be  congenial  with 
the  generality  of  female  minds.  But  I  confess 
they  would  have  no  charms  for  me.  I  should 
infinitely  prefer  a  book." 


52 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


But  of  this  answer  Lydia  heard  not  a  word. 
She  seldom  listened  to  anybody  for  more  than  half 
a  minute,  and  never  attended  to  Mary  at  all. 

In  the  afternoon  Lydia  was  urgent  with  the 
rest  of  the  girls  to  walk  to  Meryton  and  see  how 
everybody  went  on;  but  Elizabeth  steadily  op- 
posed the  scheme.  It  should  not  be  said  that  the 
Miss  Bennets  could  not  be  at  home  half  a  day  be- 
fore they  were  in  pursuit  of  the  officers.  There 
was  another  reason,  too,  for  her  opposition.  She 
dreaded  seeing  Wickham  again,  and  was  resolved 
to  avoid  it  as  long  as  possible.  The  comfort  to 
her  of  the  regiment's  approaching  removal  was 
indeed  beyond  expression.  In  a  fortnight  they 
were  to  go ;  and  once  gone,  she  hoped  there  could 
be  nothing  more  to  plague  her  on  his  account. 

She  had  not  been  many  hours  at  home,  before 
she  found  that  the  Brighton  scheme,  of  which 
Lydia  had  given  them  a  hint  at  the  inn,  was 
under  frequent  discussion  between  her  parents. 
Elizabeth  saw  directly  that  her  father  had  not  the 
smallest  intention  of  yielding;  but  his  answers 
were  at  the  same  time  so  vague  and  equivocal  that 
her  mother,  though  often  disheartened,  had  never 
yet  despaired  of  s^ucceeding  at  last. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Elizabeth's  impatience  to  acquaint  Jane  with 
what  had  happened  could  no  longer  be  overcome; 
and  at  length  resolving  to  suppress  every  particu- 
lar in  which  her  sister  was  concerned,  and  pre- 
paring her  to  be  surprised,  she  related  to  her  the 
next  morning  the  chief  of  the  scene  between  Mr. 
Darcy  and  herself. 

Miss  Bennetts  astonishment  was  soon  lessened 
by  the  strong  sisterly  partiality  which  made  any 
admiration  of  Elizabeth  appear  perfectly  natural; 
and  all  surprise  was  shortly  lost  in  other  feelings. 
She  was  sorry  that  Mr.  Darcy  should  have  deliv- 
ered his  sentiments  in  a  manner  so  little  suited  to 
recommend  them;  but  still  more  was  she  grieved 
for  the  unhappiness  which  her  sister's  refusal  must 
have  given  him. 

^'His  being  so  sure  of  succeeding  was  wrong,'' 
said  she,  ^^and  certainly  ought  not  to  have  ap- 
peared; but  consider  how  much  it  must  increase 
his  disappointment." 

'^Indeed,"  replied  Elizabeth,  ^^I  am  heartily- 
sorry  for  him ;  but  he  has  other  feelings  which  will 


54  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


probably  soon  drive  away  his  regard  for  me.  You 
do  not  blame  me,  however,  for  refusing  him? 
Blame  you!    Oh,  no.'' 

But  you  blame  me  for  having  spoken  so  warmly 
ofWickham?'' 

^^ISTo,  — I  do  not  know  that  you  were  wrong  in 
saying  what  you  did/' 

*^But  you  will  know  it,  when  I  have  told  you 
what  happened  the  very  next  day." 

She  then  spoke  of  the  letter,  repeating  the 
whole  of  its  contents  as  far  as  they  concerned 
George  Wickham.  What  a  stroke  was  this  for 
poor  Jane,  who  would  willingly  have  gone  through 
the  world  without  believing  that  so  much  wicked- 
ness existed  in  the  whole  race  of  mankind  as  was 
here  collected  in  one  individual!  Nor  was  Darcy's 
vindication,  though  grateful  to  her  feelings,  capa- 
ble of  consoling  her  for  such  discovery.  Most  ear- 
nestly did  she  labor  to  prove  the  probability  of  error, 
and  seek  to  clear  one  without  involving  the  other. 

^^This  will  not  do,"  said  Elizabeth;  ^^you  never 
will  be  able  to  make  both  of  them  good  for  any- 
thing. Take  your  choice,  but  you  must  be  satis- 
fied with  only  one.  There  is  but  such  a  quantity 
of  merit  between  them,  — just  enough  to  make  one 
good  sort  of  man;  and  of  late  it  has  been  shifting 
about  pretty  much.  For  my  part,  I  am  inclined 
to  believe  it  all  Mr.  Darcy's ;  but  you  shall  do  as 
you  choose." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


55 


It  was  some  time,  however,  before  a  smile  could 
be  extorted  from  Jane. 

^'1  do  not  know  when  I  have  been  more 
shocked,''  said  she.  ^^Wickham  so  very  bad! 
It  is  almost  past  belief.  And  poor  Mr.  Darcy! 
Dear  Lizzy,  only  consider  what  he  must  have  suf- 
fered. Such  a  disappointment!  and  with  the 
knowledge  of  your  ill  opinion  too!  and  having  to 
relate  such  a  thing  of  his  sister!  It  is  really  too 
distressing;  I  am  sure  you  must  feel  it  so.'' 

^^Oh,  no,  my  regret  and  compassion  are  all  done 
away  by  seeing  you  so  full  of  both.  I  know  you 
will  do  him  such  ample  justice  that  I  am  growing 
every  moment  more  unconcerned  and  indifferent. 
Your  profusion  makes  me  saving;  and  if  you 
lament  over  him  much  longer,  my  heart  will  be 
as  light  as  a  feather." 

^'Poor  Wickham!  there  is  such  an  expression 
of  goodness  in  his  countenance,  such  an  openness 
and  gentleness  in  his  manner." 

There  certainly  was  some  great  mismanage- 
ment in  the  education  of  those  two  young  men. 
One  has  got  all  the  goodness,  and  the  other  all  the 
appearance  of  it." 

^^I  never  thought  Mr.  Darcy  so  deficient  in  the 
appearance  of  it  as  you  used  to  do." 

And  yet  I  meant  to  be  uncommonly  clever  in 
taking  so  decided  a  dislike  to  him,  without  any 
reason.    It  is  such  a  spur  to  one's  genius,  such  an 


56 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


opening  for  wit,  to  have  a  dislike  of  that  kind. 
One  may  be  continually  abusive  without  saying 
anything  just;  but  one  cannot  be  always  laugh- 
ing at  a  man  without  now  and  then  stumbling 
on  something  witty." 

Lizzy,  when  you  first  read  that  letter,  I  am 
sure  you  could  not  treat  the  matter  as  you  do 
now.'' 

"Indeed,  I  could  not.  I  was  uncomfortable 
enough,  I  was  very  uncomfortable,  —  I  may  say 
unhappy.  And  with  no  one  to  speak  to  of  what  I 
felt,  no  Jane  to  comfort  me,  and  say  that  I  had 
not  been  so  very  weak  and  vain  and  nonsensical 
as  I  knew  I  had !    Oh,  how  I  wanted  you ! '' 

'^How  unfortunate  that  you  should  have  used 
such  very  strong  expressions  in  speaking  of  Wick- 
ham  to  Mr.  Darcy,  for  now  they  do  appear  wholly 
undeserved." 

"Certainly.  But  the  misfortune  of  speaking 
with  bitterness  is  a  most  natural  consequence  of 
the  prejudices  I  had  been  encouraging.  There  is 
one  point  on  which  I  want  your  advice.  I  want 
to  be  told  whether  I  ought,  or  ought  not,  to  make 
our  acquaintance  in  general  understand  Wickham's 
character." 

Miss  Bennet  paused  a  little,  and  then  replied: 
"  Surely  there  can  be  no  occasion  for  exposing  him 
80  dreadfully.    What  is  your  own  opinion?  " 

"That  it  ought  not  to  be  attempted.  Mr. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


57 


Darcy  has  not  authorized  me  to  make  his  commu- 
nication public.  On  the  contrary,  every  particular 
relative  to  his  sister  was  meant  to  be  kept  as  much 
as  possible  to  myself;  and  if  I  endeavor  to  unde- 
ceive people  as  to  the  rest  of  his  conduct,  who  will 
believe  me?  The  general  prejudice  against  Mr, 
Darcy  is  so  violent  that  it  would  be  the  death  of 
half  the  good  people  in  Meryton,  to  attempt  to 
place  him  in  an  amiable  light.  I  am  not  equal  to 
it.  Wickham  will  soon  be  gone;  and  therefore 
it  will  not  signify  to  anybody  here  what  he  really 
is.  Some  time  hence  it  will  be  all  found  out,  and 
then  we  may  laugh  at  their  stupidity  in  not  know- 
ing it  before.  At  present  I  will  say  nothing 
about  it.'' 

You  are  quite  right.  To  have  his  errors  made 
public  might  ruin  him  forever.  He  is  now,  per- 
haps, sorry  for  what  he  has  done,  and  anxious  to 
re-establish  a  character.  We  must  not  make  him 
desperate.'' 

The  tumult  of  Elizabeth's  mind  was  allayed  by 
this  conversation.  She  had  got  rid  of  two  of  the 
secrets  which  had  weighed  on  her  for  a  fortnight, 
and  was  certain  of  a  willing  listener  in  Jane, 
whenever  she  might  wish  to  talk  again  of  either. 
But  there  was  still  something  lurking  behind,  of 
which  prudence  forbade  the  disclosure.  She  dared 
not  relate  the  other  half  of  Mr.  Darcy's  letter,  nor 
explain  to  her  sister  how  sincerely  she  had  been 


58 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


valued  by  his  friend.  Here  was  knowledge  in 
which  no  one  could  partake;  and  she  was  sensible 
that  nothing  less  than  a  perfect  understanding  be- 
tween the  parties  could  justify  her  in  throwing  off 
this  last  encumbrance  of  mystery.  And  then," 
said  she,  ^'if  that  very  improbable  event  should 
ever  take  place,  I  shall  merely  be  able  to  tell  what 
Bingley  may  tell  in  a  much  more  agreeable  manner 
himself.  The  liberty  of  communication  cannot  be 
mine  till  it  has  lost  all  its  value! 

She  was  now,  on  being  settled  at  home,  at  leisure 
to  observe  the  real  state  of  her  sister's  spirits. 
Jane  was  not  happy.  She  still  cherished  a  very 
tender  affection  for  Bingley.  Having  never  even 
fancied  herself  in  love  before,  her  regard  had  all 
the  warmth  of  first  attachment,  and  from  her  age 
and  disposition,  greater  steadiness  than  first  at- 
tachments often  boast;  and  so  fervently  did  she 
value  his  remembrance,  and  prefer  him  to  every 
other  man,  that  all  her  good  sense  and  all  her 
attention  to  the  feelings  of  her  friends  were  requi- 
site to  check  the  indulgence  of  those  regrets  which 
must  have  been  injurious  to  her  own  health  and 
their  tranquillity. 

^^Well,  Lizzy,''  said  Mrs.  Bennet,  one  day, 
'^what  is  your  opinion  now  of  this  sad  business 
of  Jane's?  For  my  part,  I  am  determined  never 
to  speak  of  it  again  to  anybody.  I  told  my  sister 
Philips  so  the  other  day.    But  I  cannot  find  out 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


59 


that  Jane  saw  anything  of  him  in  London.  Well, 
he  is  a  very  undeserving  young  man, —  and  I  do  not 
suppose  there  is  the  least  chance  in  the  world  of 
her  ever  getting  him  now.  There  is  no  talk  of  his 
coming  to  Netherfield  again  in  the  summer;  and  I 
have  inquired  of  everybody,  too,  who  is  likely  to 
know." 

^^I  do  not  believe  that  he  will  ever  live  at 
Netherfield  any  more.'' 

^^Oh,  well!  it  is  just  as  he  chooses.  Nobody 
wants  him  to  come;  though  I  shall  always  say 
that  he  used  my  daughter  extremely  ill ;  and  if  I 
was  her,  I  would  not  have  put  up  with  it.  Well, 
my  comfort  is,  I  am  sure  Jane  will  die  of  a  broken 
heart,  and  then  he  will  be  sorry  for  what  he  has 
done." 

Bnt  as  Elizabeth  could  not  receive  comfort  from 
any  such  expectation,  she  made  no  answer. 

^'Well,  Lizzy,"  continued  her  mother,  soon 
afterwards,  and  so  the  Collinses  live  very  com- 
fortable, do  they?  Well,  well,  I  only  hope  it 
will  last.  And  what  sort  of  table  do  they  keep? 
Charlotte  is  an  excellent  manager,  I  dare  say.  If 
she  is  half  as  sharp  as  her  mother,  she  is  saving 
enough.  There  is  nothing  extravagant  in  their 
housekeeping,  I  dare  say." 

^^No,  nothing  at  all." 

^^A  great  deal  of  good  management,  depend  up- 
on it.    Yes,  yes.    They  will  take  care  not  to  out- 


60 


0 

PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


run  their  income.  They  will  never  be  distressed 
for  money.  Well,  much  good  may  it  do  them^ 
And  so,  I  suppose,  they  often  talk  of  having 
Longbourn  when  your  father  is  dead.  They  look 
upon  it  quite  as  their  own,  I  dare  say,  whenever 
that  happens.'' 

^^It  was  a  subject  which  they  could  not  mention 
before  me.'' 

**No;  it  would  have  been  strange  if  they  had. 
But  I  make  no  doubt  they  often  talk  of  it  between 
themselves.  Well,  if  they  can  be  easy  with  an 
estate  that  is  not  lawfully  their  own,  so  much  the 
better.  I  should  be  ashamed  of  having  one  that 
was  only  entailed  on  me." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


The  first  week  of  their  return  was  soon  gone. 
The  second  began.  It  was  the  last  of  the  regi- 
ment's stay  in  Meryton,  and  all  the  young  ladies 
in  the  neighborhood  were  drooping  apace.  The 
dejection  was  almost  universal.  The  elder  Miss 
Bennets  alone  were  still  able  to  eat,  drink,  and 
sleep,  and  pursue  the  usual  course  of  their  employ- 
ments. Very  frequently  were  they  reproached  for 
this  insensibility  by  Kitty  and  Lydia,  whose  own 
misery  was  extreme,  and  who  could  not  compre- 
hend such  hard-heartedness  in  any  of  the  family. 

*^Good  Heaven!  What  is  to  become  of  us? 
What  are  we  to  do?''  would  they  often  exclaim 
in  the  bitterness  of  woe.  ^'How  can  you  be  smil- 
ing so,  Lizzy?  " 

Their  affectionate  mother  shared  all  their  grief; 
she  remembered  what  she  had  herself  endured  on 
a  similar  occasion  five-and-twenty  years  ago. 

'^I  am  sure,"  said  she,  I  cried  for  two  days  to- 
gether when  Colonel  Millar's  regiment  went  away. 
I  thought  I  should  have  broke  my  heart." 

^'I  am  sure  I  shall  break  mine,"  said  Lydia. 

''If  one  could  but  go  to  Brighton!"  observed 
Mrs.  Bennet. 


62 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


''Oil,  yes!  —  if  one  could  but  go  to  BrigTitoa! 

But  papa  is  so  disagreeable." 

''A  little  sea-bathing  would  set  me  up  forever." 

''And  my  aunt  Philips  is  sure  it  would  do  me  a 
great  deal  of  good,"  added  Kitty. 

Such  were  the  kind  of  lamentations  resounding 
perpetually  through  Longbourn  House.  Elizabeth 
tried  to  be  diverted  by  them;  but  all  sense  of 
pleasure  was  lost  in  shame.  She  felt  anew  the 
justice  of  Mr.  Darcy's  objections;  and  never  had 
she  before  been  so  much  disposed  to  pardon  his 
interference  in  the  views  of  his  friend. 

But  the  gloom  of  Lydia's  prospect  was  shortly 
cleared  away;  for  she  received  an  invitation  from 
Mrs.  Forster,  the  wife  of  the  colonel  of  the  regi- 
ment, to  accompany  her  to  Brighton.  This  inval- 
uable friend  was  a  very  young  woman,  and  very 
lately  married.  A  resemblance  in  good-humor 
and  good  spirits  had  recommended  her  and  Lydia 
to  each  other,  and  out  of  their  three  months'  ac- 
quaintance they  had  been  intimate  two. 

The  rapture  of  Lydia  on  this  occasion,  her  adora- 
tion of  Mrs.  Forster,  the  delight  of  Mrs.  Bennet, 
and  the  mortification  of  Kitty  are  scarcely  to  be 
described.  Wholly  inattentive  to  her  sister's 
feelings,  Lydia  flew  about  the  house  in  restless 
ecstasy,  calling  for  every  one's  congratulations, 
and  laughing  and  talking  wth  more  violence  than 
ever;  whilst  the  luckless  Kitty  continued  in  the 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


63 


parlor  repining  at  her  fate  in  terms  as  unreason- 
able as  her  accent  was  peevish. 

^^I  cannot  see  why  Mrs.  Forster  should  not  ask 
me  as  well  as  Lydia, said  she,  ^  though  I  am  not 
her  particular  friend.  I  have  just  as  much  right 
to  be  asked  as  she  has,  and  more  too,  for  I  am  two 
years  older.'' 

In  vain  did  Elizabeth  attempt  to  make  her 
reasonable,  and  Jane  to  make  her  resigned.  As 
for  Elizabeth  herself,  this  invitation  was  so  far 
from  exciting  in  her  the  same  feelings  as  in  her 
mother  and  Lydia,  that  she  considered  it  as  the 
death-warrant  of  all  possibility  of  common-sense 
for  the  latter;  and  detestable  as  such  a  step  must 
make  her,  were  it  known,  she  could  not  help  secret- 
ly advising  her  father  not  to  let  her  go.  She  rep- 
resented to  him  all  the  improprieties  of  Lydia's 
general  behavior,  the  little  advantage  she  could 
derive  from  the  friendship  of  such  a  woman  as 
Mrs.  Forster,  and  the  probability  of  her  being 
yet  more  imprudent  with  such  a  companion  at 
Brighton,  where  the  temptations  must  be  greater 
than  at  home.  He  heard  her  attentively,  and  then 
said, — 

Lydia  will  never  be  easy  till  she  has  exposed 
herself  in  some  public  place  or  other,  and  we  can 
never  expect  her  to  do  it  with  so  little  expense  or 
inconvenience  to  her  family  as  under  the  present 
circumstances.'' 


64  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


''If  you  were  aware/'  said  Elizabeth,  ''of  the 
very  great  disadvantage  to  us  all,  which  must 
arise  from  the  public  notice  of  Lydia's  unguarded 
and  imprudent  manner,  nay,  which  has  already 
arisen  from  it,  I  am  sure  you  would  judge  differ- 
ently in  the  affair.'' 

"Already  arisen!  "  repeated  Mr.  Bennet. 
"What!  has  she  frightened  away  some  of  your 
lovers?  Poor  little  Lizzy!  But  do  not  be  cast 
down.  Such  squeamish  youths  as  cannot  bear  to 
be  connected  with  a  little  absurdity  are  not  worth 
a  regret.  Come,  let  me  see  the  list  of  the  pitiful 
fellows  who  have  been  kept  aloof  by  Lydia's  folly." 

"Indeed,  you  are  mistaken.  I  have  no  such 
injuries  to  resent.  It  is  not  of  peculiar,  but  of 
general  evils,  which  I  am  now  complaining.  Our 
importance,  our  respectability,  in  the  world  must 
be  affected  by  the  wild  volatility,  the  assurance, 
and  disdain  of  all  restraint  which  mark  Lydia's 
character.  Excuse  me,  —  for  I  must  speak 
plainly.  If  you,  my  dear  father,  will  not  take 
the  trouble  of  checking  her  exuberant  spirits,  and 
of  teaching  her  that  her  present  pursuits  are  not 
to  be  the  business  of  her  life,  she  will  soon  be  be- 
yond the  reach  of  amendment.  Her  character  will 
be  fixed;  and  she  will,  at  sixteen,  be  the  most  de- 
termined flirt  that  ever  made  herself  and  her 
family  ridiculous.  A  flirt,  too,  in  the  worst  and 
meanest  degree  of  flirtation;  without  any  attrac- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


65 


tion  beyond  youth  and  a  tolerable  person;  and, 
from  the  ignorance  and  emptiness  of  her  mind, 
wholly  unable  to  ward  off  any  portion  of  that  uni- 
versal contempt  which  her  rage  for  admiration 
will  excite.  In  this  danger  Kitty  is  also  compre- 
hended. She  will  follow  wherever  Lydia  leads. 
Vain,  ignorant,  idle,  and  absolutely  uncontrolled ! 
Oh,  my  dear  father,  can  you  suppose  it  possible 
that  they  will  not  be  censured  and  despised  wher- 
ever they  are  known,  and  that  their  sisters  will 
not  be  often  involved  in  the  disgrace? 

Mr.  Bennet  saw  that  her  whole  heart  was  in  the 
subject;  and  affectionately  taking  her  hand,  said 
in  reply,  — 

^^Do  not  make  j^-ourself  uneasy,  my  love. 
Wherever  you  and  Jane  are  known,  you  must  be 
respected  and  valued;  and  you  will  not  appear  to 
less  advantage  for  having  a  couple  of  —  or  I  may 
say,  three  —  very  silly  sisters.  We  shall  have 
no  peace  at  Longbourn  if  Lydia  does  not  go  to 
Brighton.  Let  her  go,  then.  Colonel  Forster  is 
a  sensible  man,  and  will  keep  her  out  of  any  real 
mischief;  and  she  is  luckily  too  poor  to  be  an  ob- 
ject of  prey  to  anybody.  At  Brighton  she  will  be 
of  less  importance  even  as  a  common  flirt  than  she 
has  been  here.  The  officers  will  find  women  better 
worth  their  notice.  Let  us  hope,  therefore,  that 
her  being  there  may  teach  her  her  own  insigni- 
ficance.   At   any   rate,  she    cannot  grow  many 

VOL.  II.  —  5 


66  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


degrees  worse,  without  authorizing  us  to  lock  her 
up  for  the  rest  of  her  life." 

With  this  answer  Elizabeth  was  forced  to  be 
content;  but  her  own  opinion  continued  the  same, 
and  she  left  him  disappointed  and  sorry.  It  was 
not  in  her  nature,  however,  to  increase  her  vexa- 
tions by  dwelling  on  them.  She  was  confident  of 
having  performed  her  duty;  and  to  fret  over  un- 
avoidable evils,  or  augment  them  by  anxiety,  was 
no  part  of  her  disposition. 

Had  Lydia  and  her  mother  known  the  substance 
of  her  conference  with  her  father,  their  indigna- 
tion would  hardly  have  found  expression  in  their 
united  volubility.  In  Lydia's  imagination,  a 
visit  to  Brighton  comprised  every  possibility  of 
earthly  happiness.  She  saw,  with  the  creative 
eye  of  fancy,  the  streets  of  that  gay  bathing-place 
covered  with  officers.  She  saw  herself  the  object 
of  attention  to  tens  and  to  scores  of  them  at  present 
unknown.  She  saw  all  the  glories  of  the  camp  : 
its  tents  stretched  forth  in  beauteous  uniformity 
of  lines,  crowded  with  the  young  and  the  gay,  and 
dazzling  with  scarlet;  and,  to  complete  the  view, 
she  saw  herself  seated  beneath  a  tent,  tenderly 
flirting  with  at  least  six  officers  at  once. 

Had  she  known  that  her  sister  sought  to  tear 
her  from  such  prospects  and  such  realities  as  these, 
what  would  have  been  her  sensations?  They  could 
have  been  understood  only  by  her  mother,  who 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


67 


might  have  felt  nearly  the  same.  Lydia's  going 
to  Brighton  was  all  that  consoled  her  for  the  mel- 
ancholy conviction  of  her  husband's  never  intend- 
ing to  go  there  himself. 

But  they  were  entirely  ignorant  of  what  had 
passed;  and  their  raptures  continued,  with  little 
intermission,  to  the  very  day  of  Lydia's  leaving 
home. 

Elizabeth  was  now  to  see  Mr.  Wickham  for  the 
last  time.  Having  been  frequently  in  company 
with  him  since  her  return,  agitation  was  pretty 
well  over;  the  agitations  of  former  partiality  en- 
tirely so.  She  had  even  learned  to  detect,  in  the 
very  gentleness  which  had  first  delighted  her,  an 
affectation  and  a  sameness  to  disgust  and  weary. 
In  his  present  behavior  to  herself,  moreover,  she 
had  a  fresh  source  of  displeasure ;  for  the  inclina- 
tion he  soon  testified  of  renewing  those  attentions 
which  had  marked  the  early  part  of  their  acquaint- 
ance could  only  serve,  after  what  had  since  passed, 
to  provoke  her.  She  lost  all  concern  for  him  in 
finding  herself  thus  selected  as  the  object  of  such 
idle  and  frivolous  gallantry ;  and  while  she  steadily 
repressed  it,  could  not  but  feel  the  reproof  con- 
tained in  his  believing  that  however  long  and  for 
whatever  cause  his  attentions  had  been  withdrawn, 
her  vanity  would  be  gratified,  and  her  preference 
secured  at  any  time,  by  their  renewal. 

On  the  very  last  day  of  the  regiment's  remain- 


68 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


ing  in  Meryton,  he  dined,  with  others  of  the  offi- 
cers, at  Longbourn;  and  so  little  was  Elizabeth 
disposed  to  part  from  him  in  good-humor,  that  on 
his  making  some  inquiry  as  to  the  manner  in 
which  her  time  had  passed  at  Hunsford,  she  men- 
tioned Colonel  Fitzwilliam's  and  Mr.  Darcy's  liav- 
ing  both  spent  three  weeks  at  Rosings,  and  asked 
him  if  he  were  acquainted  with  the  former. 

He  looked  surprised,  displeased,  alarmed;  but 
with  a  moment's  recollection  and  a  returning 
smile,  replied  that  he  had  formerly  seen  him 
often,  and  after  observing  that  he  was  a  very 
gentlemanlike  man,  asked  her  how  she  had  liked 
him.  Her  answer  was  warmly  in  his  favor.  With 
an  air  of  indifference  he  soon  afterwards  added, 

How  long  did  you  say  that  he  was  at  Eosings?'' 

^'Nearly  three  weeks." 
And  you  saw  him  frequently? 

^' Yes,  almost  every  day.'' 

^^His  manners  are  very  different  from  his 
cousin's." 

^^Yes,  very  different;  but  I  think  Mr.  Darcy 
improves  on  acquaintance." 

Indeed!  "  cried  Wickham,  with  a  look  which 
did  not  escape  her.  ^^And  pray  may  I  ask  —  " 
But  checking  himself,  he  added  in  a  gayer  tone: 
*'Is  it  in  address  that  he  improves?  Has  he 
deigned  to  add  aught  of  civility  to  his  ordinary 
style?    For  I  dare  not  hope,"  he  continued,  in  a 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


69 


lower  and  more  serious  tone,  that  he  is  improved 
in  essentials/' 

^^Oh,  no!''  said  Elizabeth.  ^^In  essentials  I 
believe  he  is  very  much  what  he  ever  was." 

While  she  spoke,  Wickham  looked  as  if  scarcely 
knowing  whether  to  rejoice  over  her  words  or  to 
distrust  their  meaning.  There  was  a  something 
in  her  countenance  which  made  him  listen  with 
an  apprehensive  and  anxious  attention,  while  she 
added,  — 

^^When  I  said  that  he  improved  on  acquaint- 
ance, I  did  not  mean  that  either  his  mind  or  man- 
ners  were  in  a  state  of  improvement;  but  that 
from  knowing  him  better,  his  disposition  was 
better  understood." 

Wickham's  alarm  now  appeared  in  a  heightened 
complexion  and  agitated  look;  for  a  few  minutes 
he  was  silent,  till,  shaking  off  his  embarrassment, 
he  turned  to  her  again,  and  said  in  the  gentlest  of 
accents,  — 

^^You,  who  so  well  know  my  feelings  towards 
Mr.  Darcy,  will  readily  comprehend  how  sincerely 
I  must  rejoice  that  he  is  wise  enough  to  assume 
even  the  appearance  of  what  is  right.  His  pride 
in  that  direction  may  be  of  service,  if  not  to  him- 
self, to  many  others,  for  it  must  deter  him  from 
such  foul  misconduct  as  I  have  suffered  by.  I 
only  fear  that  the  sort  of  cautiousness  to  which 


70 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


you,  I  imagine,  have  been  alluding,  is  merely 
adopted  on  his  visits  to  his  aunt,  of  whose  good 
opinion  and  judgment  he  stands  much  in  awe. 
His  fear  of  her  has  always  operated,  I  know,  when 
they  were  together;  and  a  good  deal  is  to  be  im- 
puted to  his  wish  of  forwarding  the  match  with 
Miss  de  Bourgh,  which  I  am  certain  he  has  very 
much  at  heart." 

Elizabeth  could  not  repress  a  smile  at  this,  but 
she  answered  only  by  a  slight  inclination  of  the 
head.  She  saw  that  he  wanted  to  engage  her  on 
the  old  subject  of  his  grievances,  and  she  was  in 
no  humor  to  indulge  him.  The  rest  of  the  even- 
ing passed  with  the  appearance,  on  his  side,  of 
usual  cheerfulness,  but  with  no  further  attempt  to 
distinguish  Elizabeth;  and  they  parted  at  last  with 
mutual  civility,  and  possibly  a  mutual  desire  of 
never  meeting  again. 

When  the  party  broke  up,  Lydia  returned  with 
Mrs.  Eorster  to  Meryton,  from  whence  they  were 
to  set  out  early  the  next  morning.  The  separation 
between  her  and  her  family  was  rather  noisy  than 
pathetic.  Kitty  was  the  only  one  who  shed  tears ; 
but  she  did  weep  from  vexation  and  envy.  Mrs. 
Bennet  was  diffuse  in  her  good  wishes  for  the 
felicity  of  her  daughter,  and  impressive  in  her 
injunctions  that  she  would  not  miss  the  opportunity 
of  enjoying  herself  as  much  as  possible,  —  advice 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


71 


wliicli  there  was  every  reason  to  believe  would  be 
attended  to;  and  in  the  clamorous  happiness  of 
Lydia  herself  in  bidding  farewell,  the  more  gentle 
adieus  of  her  sisters  were  uttered  without  being 
heard. 


CHAPTEE  IX. 


Had  Elizabeth's  opinion  been  all  drawn  from  her 
own  family,  she  could  not  have  formed  a  very 
pleasing  picture  of  conjugal  felicity  or  domestic 
comfort.  Her  father,  captivated  by  youth  and 
beauty,  and  that  appearance  of  good-humor  which 
youth  and  beauty  generally  give,  had  married  a 
woman  whose  weak  understanding  and  illiberal 
mind  had  very  early  in  their  marriage  put  an  end 
to  all  real  affection  for  her.  Respect,  esteem,  and 
confidence  had  vanished  forever ;  and  all  his  views 
of  domestic  happiness  were  overthrown.  But  Mr. 
Bennet  was  not  of  a  disposition  to  seek  comfort 
for  the  disappointment  which  his  own  imprudence 
had  brought  on  in  any  of  those  pleasures  which 
too  often  console  the  unfortunate  for  their  folly  or 
their  vice.  He  was  fond  of  the  country  and  of 
books;  and  from  these  tastes  had  arisen  his  prin- 
cipal enjoyments.  To  his  wife  he  was  ver^'-  little 
otherwise  indebted  than  as  her  ignorance  and  folly 
had  contributed  to  his  amusement.  This  is  not 
the  sort  of  happiness  which  a  man  would  in  gen- 
eral wish  to  owe  to  his  wife;  but  where  other 
powers  of  entertainment  are  wanting,  the  true 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


73 


philosopher  will  derive  benefit  from  such  as  are 
given. 

Elizabeth,  however,  had  never  been  blind  to 
the  impropriety  of  her  father's  behavior  as  a  hus- 
band. She  had  always  seen  it  with  pain;  but 
respecting  his  abilities,  and  grateful  for  his  affec- 
tionate treatment  of  herself,  she  endeavored  to  for- 
get what  she  could  not  overlook,  and  to  banish 
from  her  thoughts  that  continual  breach  of  con- 
jugal obligation  and  decorum  which,  in  exposing 
his  wife  to  the  contempt  of  her  own  children,  was 
so  highly  reprehensible.  But  she  had  never  felt 
so  strongly  as  now  the  disadvantages  which  must 
attend  the  children  of  so  unsuitable  a  marriage, 
nor  ever  been  so  fully  aware  of  the  evils  arising 
from  so  ill-judged  a  direction  of  talents,  —  talents 
which,  rightly  used,  might  at  least  have  preserved 
the  respectability  of  his  daughters,  even  if  inca- 
pable of  enlarging  the  mind  of  his  wife. 

When  Elizabeth  had  rejoiced  over  Wickham's 
departure,  she  found  little  other  cause  for  satisfac- 
tion in  the  loss  of  the  regiment.  Their  parties 
abroad  were  less  varied  than  before ;  and  at  home 
she  had  a  mother  and  sister  whose  constant  re- 
pinings  at  the  dulness  of  everything  around  them 
threw  a  real  gloom  over  their  domestic  circle ;  and 
though  Kitty  might  in  time  regain  her  natural 
degree  of  sense,  since  the  disturbers  of  her  brain 
were  removed,  her  other  sister,  from  whose  dispo- 


74 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


sition  greater  evil  might  be  apprehended,  was 
likely  to  be  hardened  in  all  her  folly  and  assur- 
ance, by  a  situation  of  such  double  danger  as  a 
watering-place  and  a  camp.  Upon  the  whole, 
therefore,  she  found,  what  has  been  sometimes 
found  before,  that  an  event  to  which  she  had 
looked  forward  with  impatient  desire  did  not,  in 
taking  place,  bring  all  the  satisfaction  she  had 
promised  herself.  It  was  consequently  necessary 
to  name  some  other  period  for  the  commencement 
of  actual  felicity;  to  have  some  other  point  on 
which  her  wishes  and  hopes  might  be  fixed,  and 
by  again  enjoying  the  pleasure  of  anticipation, 
console  herself  for  the  present,  and  prepare  for 
another  disappointment.  Her  tour  to  the  Lakes 
was  now  the  object  of  her  happiest  thoughts:  it 
was  her  best  consolation  for  all  the  uncomfortable 
hours  which  the  discontentedness  of  her  mother 
and  Kitty  made  inevitable;  and  could  she  have 
included  Jane  in  the  scheme,  every  part  of  it 
would  have  been  perfect. 

^^But  it  is  fortunate,"  thought  she,  ^^that  I 
have  something  to  wish  for.  Were  the  whole 
arrangement  complete,  my  disappointment  would 
be  certain.  But  here,  by  carrying  with  me  one 
ceaseless  source  of  regret  in  my  sister's  absence,  I 
may  reasonably  hope  to  have  all  my  expectations  of 
pleasure  realized.  A  scheme  of  which  every  part 
promises  delight  can  never  be  successful ;  and  gen- 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


75 


eral  disappointment  is  only  warded  off  by  the 
defence  of  some  little  peculiar  vexation.'^ 

When  Lydia  went  away  she  promised  to  write 
very  often  and  very  minutely  to  her  mother  and 
Kitty;  but  her  letters  were  always  long  expected 
and  always  very  short.  Those  to  her  mother  con- 
tained little  else  than  that  they  were  just  returned 
from  the  library,  where  such  and  such  officers  had 
attended  them,  and  where  she  had  seen  such  beau- 
tiful ornaments  as  made  her  quite  wild;  that  she 
had  a  new  gown  or  a  new  parasol,  which  she 
would  have  described  more  fully,  but  was  obliged 
to  leave  off  in  a  violent  hurry,  as  Mrs.  Forster 
called  her,  and  they  were  going  to  the  camp;  and 
from  her  correspondence  with  her  sister  there  was 
still  less  to  be  learned,  for  her  letters  to  Kitty, 
though  rather  longer,  were  much  too  full  of  lines 
under  the  words  to  be  made  public. 

After  the  first  fortnight  or  three  weeks  of  her 
absence,  health,  good-humor,  and  cheerfulness 
began  to  reappear  at  Longbourn.  Everything 
wore  a  happier  aspect.  The  families  who  had 
been  in  town  for  the  winter  came  back  again,  and 
summer  finery  and  summer  engagements  arose. 
Mrs.  Bennet  was  restored  to  her  usual  querulous 
serenity;  and  by  the  middle  of  June  Kitty  was 
so  much  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  enter  Meryton 
without  tears,  —  an  event  of  such  happy  promise 
as  to  make  Elizabeth  hope  that  by  the  following 


76  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Christmas  she  might  be  so  tolerably  reasonable  as 
not  to  mention  an  officer  above  once  a  day,  unless, 
by  some  cruel  and  malicious  arrangement  at  the 
War  Office,  another  regiment  should  be  quartered 
in  Meryton. 

The  time  fixed  for  the  beginning  of  their  north- 
ern tour  was  now  fast  approaching;  and  a  fort- 
night only  was  wanting  of  it,  when  a  letter  arrived 
from  Mrs.  Gardiner,  which  at  once  delayed  its 
commencement  and  curtailed  its  extent.  Mr. 
Gardiner  would  be  prevented  by  business  from 
setting  out  till  a  fortnight  later  in  July,  and  must 
be  in  London  again  within  a  month ;  and  as  that 
left  too  short  a  period  for  them  to  go  so  far,  and 
see  so  much  as  they  had  proposed,  or  at  least  to  see 
it  with  the  leisure  and  comfort  they  had  built  on, 
they  were  obliged  to  give  up  the  Lakes,  and  sub- 
stitute a  more  contracted  tour;  and  according  to 
the  present  plan,  were  to  go  no  farther  northward 
than  Derbyshire.  In  that  county  there  was 
enough  to  be  seen  to  occupy  the  chief  of  their 
three  weeks;  and  to  Mrs.  Gardiner  it  had  a  pecu- 
liarly strong  attraction.  The  town  where  she  had 
formerly  passed  some  years  of  her  life,  and  where 
they  were  now  to  spend  a  few  days,  was  probably 
as  great  an  object  of  her  curiosity  as  all  the  cele- 
brated beauties  of  Matlock,  Chatsworth,  Dovedale, 
or  the  Peak. 

Elizabeth  was  excessivcl;  lisappointed;  she  had 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


77 


set  her  heart  on  seeing  the  Lakes,  and  still  thought 
there  might  have  been  time  enough.  But  it  was 
her  business  to  be  satisfied,  and  certainly  her  tem- 
per to  be  happy ;  and  all  was  soon  right  again. 

With  the  mention  of  Derbyshire,  there  were 
many  ideas  connected.  It  was  impossible  for  her 
to  see  the  word  without  thinking  of  Pemberley 
and  its  owner.  '^But  surely,''  said  she,  '^I  may 
enter  his  county  with  impunity,  and  rob  it  of  a 
few  petrified  spars  without  his  perceiving  me." 

The  period  of  expectation  was  now  doubled. 
Four  weeks  were  to  pass  away  before  her  uncle  and 
aunt's  arrival.  But  they  did  pass  away,  and  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Gardiner,  with  their  four  children,  did 
at  length  appear  at  Longbourn.  The  children  — 
two  girls  of  six  and  eight  years  old,  and  two 
younger  boys  —  were  to  be  left  under  the  particular 
care  of  their  cousin  Jane,  who  was  the  general 
favorite,  and  whose  steady  sense  and  sweetness  of 
temper  exactly  adapted  her  for  attending  to  them 
in  every  way,  —  teaching  them,  playing  with 
them,  and  loving  them. 

The  Gardiners  stayed  only  one  night  at  Long- 
bourn,  and  set  off  the  next  morning  with  Eliza- 
beth in  pursuit  of  novelty  and  amusement.  One 
enjoyment  was  certain,  —  that  of  suitableness  as 
companions,  —  a  suitableness  which  comprehended 
health  and  temper  to  bear  inconveniences,  cheer- 
fulness to    enhance    every  pleasure,    and  affec- 


78  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


tion  and  intelligence,  which  might  supply  it 
among  themselves  if  there  were  disappointments 
abroad. 

It  is  not  the  object  of  this  work  to  give  a  de- 
scription of  Derbyshire,  nor  of  any  of  the  remark- 
able places  through  which  their  route  thither  lay,  — 
Oxford,  Blenheim,  Warwick,  Kenilworth,  Bir- 
mingham, etc.,  are  sufficiently  known.  A  small 
part  of  Derbyshire  is  all  the  present  concern.  To 
the  little  town  of  Lambton,  the  scene  of  Mrs. 
Gardiner's  former  residence,  and  where  she  had 
lately  learned  that  some  acquaintance  still  re- 
mained, they  bent  their  steps,  after  having  seen 
all  the  principal  wonders  of  the  country;  and 
within  five  miles  of  Lambton,  Elizabeth  found, 
from  her  aunt,  that  Pemberley  was  situated.  It 
was  not  in  their  direct  road,  nor  more  than  a  mile 
or  two  out  of  it.  In  talking  over  their  route  the 
evening  before,  Mrs.  Gardiner  expressed  an  incli- 
nation to  see  the  place  again.  Mr.  Gardiner  de- 
clared his  willingness,  and  Elizabeth  was  applied 
to  for  her  approbation. 

^^My  love,  should  not  you  like  to  see  a  place  of 
which  you  have  heard  so  much,''  said  her  aunt,  — 
^^a  place,  too,  with  which  so  many  of  your  ac- 
quaintance are  connected?  Wickham  passed  all 
his  youth  there,  you  know." 

Elizabeth  was  distressed.  She  felt  that  she  had 
no  business  at  Pemberley,  and  was  obliged  to  as- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


79 


sume  a  disinclination  for  seeing  it.  '^She  must 
own  that  she  was  tired  of  great  houses ;  after  go- 
ing over  so  many,  she  really  had  no  pleasure  in 
fine  carpets  or  satin  curtains.'' 

Mrs.  Gardiner  abused  her  stupidity.  *'If  it 
were  merely  a  fine  house  richly  furnished/'  said 
she,  ^^I  should  not  care  about  it  myself;  but  the 
grounds  are  delightful.  They  have  some  of  the 
finest  woods  in  the  country." 

Elizabeth  said  no  more ;  but  her  mind  could  not 
acquiesce.  The  possibility  of  meeting  Mr.  Darcy, 
while  viewing  the  place,  instantly  occurred.  It 
would  be  dreadful !  She  blushed  at  the  very  idea, 
and  thought  it  would  be  better  to  speak  openly  to 
her  aunt  than  to  run  such  a  risk.  But  against 
this  there  were  objections;  and  she  finally  resolved 
that  it  could  be  the  last  resource,  if  her  private 
inquiries  as  to  the  absence  of  the  family  were 
unfavorably  answered. 

Accordingly,  when  she  retired  at  night,  she 
asked  the  chambermaid  whether  Pemberley  were 
not  a  very  fine  place,  what  was  the  name  of  its 
proprietor,  and,  with  no  little  alarm,  whether  the 
family  were  down  for  the  summer?  A  most  wel- 
come negative  followed  the  last  question;  and  her 
alarms  being  now  removed,  she  was  at  leisure  to 
feel  a  great  deal  of  curiosity  to  see  the  house  her- 
self; and  when  the  subject  was  revived  the  next 


80  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


morning,  and  she  was  again  applied  to,  could 
readily  answer,  and  with  a  proper  air  of  indif- 
ference, that  she  had  not  really  any  dislike  to  the 
scheme. 

To  Pemberley,  therefore,  they  were  to  go. 


CHAPTER  X. 


Elizabeth,  as  they  drove  along,  watched  for  the 
first  appearance  of  Pemberley  Woods  with  some 
perturbation;  and  when  at  length  they  turned  in 
at  the  lodge,  her  spirits  were  in  a  high  flutter. 

The  park  was  very  large,  and  contained  great 
variety  of  ground.  They  entered  it  in  one  of  its 
lowest  points,  and  drove  for  some  time  through  a 
beautiful  wood  stretching  over  a  wide  extent. 

Elizabeth's  mind  was  too  full  for  conversation, 
but  she  saw  and  admired  every  remarkable  spot 
and  point  of  view.  They  gradually  ascended  for 
half  a  mile,  and  then  found  themselves  at  the  top 
of  a  considerable  eminence,  where  the  wood  ceased, 
and  the  eye  was  instantly  caught  by  Pemberley 
House,  situated  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley, 
into  which  the  road  with  some  abruptness  wound. 
It  was  a  large,  handsome  stone  building,  standing 
well  on  rising  ground,  and  backed  by  a  ridge  of 
high  woody  hills ;  and  in  front  a  stream  of  some 
natural  importance  was  swelled  into  greater,  but 
without  any  artificial  appearance.  Its  banks  were 
neither  formal  nor  falsely  adorned.  Elizabeth  was 
delighted.    She  had  never  seen  a  place  for  which 

VOL.  II.  —  6 


82  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Nature  had  done  more,  or  where  natural  beauty  had 
been  so  little  counteracted  by  an  awkward  taste. 
They  were  all  of  them  warm  in  their  admiration ; 
and  at  that  moment  she  felt  that  to  be  mistress  of 
Pemberley  might  be  something! 

They  descended  the  hill,  crossed  the  bridge,  and 
drove  to  the  door;  and  while  examining  the 
nearer  aspect  of  the  house,  all  her  apprehension  of 
meeting  its  owner  returned.  She  dreaded  lest  the 
chambermaid  had  been  mistaken.  On  applying  to 
see  the  place,  they  were  admitted  into  the  hall; 
and  Elizabeth,  as  they  waited  for  the  housekeeper, 
had  leisure  to  wonder  at  her  being  where  she  was. 

The  housekeeper  came;  a  respectable-looking 
elderly  woman,  much  less  fine  and  more  civil 
than  she  had  any  notion  of  finding  her.  They  fol- 
lowed her  into  the  dining-parlor.  It  was  a  large, 
well-proportioned  room,  handsomely  fitted  up. 
Elizabeth,  after  slightly  surveying  it,  went  to  a 
window  to  enjoy  its  prospect.  The  hill,  crowned 
with  wood,  from  which  they  had  descended,  re- 
ceiving increased  abruptness  from  the  distance, 
was  a  beautiful  object.  Every  disposition  of  the 
ground  was  good;  and  she  looked  on  the  whole 
scene,  the  river,  the  trees  scattered  on  its  banks, 
and  the  winding  of  the  valley,  as  far  as  she  could 
trace  it,  with  delight.  As  they  passed  into  other 
rooms,  these  objects  were  taking  different  posi- 
tions; but  from  every  window  there  were  beauties 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


83 


to  be  seen.  The  rooms  were  lofty  and  handsome, 
and  their  furniture  suitable  to  the  fortune  of  their 
proprietor;  but  Elizabeth  saw,  with  admiration  of 
his  taste,  that  it  was  neither  gaudy  nor  uselessly 
fine,  —  with  less  of  splendor,  and  more  real  ele- 
gance, than  the  furniture  of  Kosings. 

^^And  of  this  place,''  thouglit  she,  ^'1  might 
have  been  mistress!  With  these  rooms  I  might 
have  now  been  familiarly  acquainted!  Instead  of 
viewing  them  as  a  stranger,  I  might  have  rejoiced 
in  them  as  my  own,  and  welcomed  to  them  as  visi- 
tors my  uncle  and  aunt.  But  no,"  recollecting 
herself,  ''that  could  never  be;  my  uncle  and  aunt 
would  have  been  lost  to  me;  I  should  not  have 
been  allowed  to  invite  them." 

This  was  a  lucky  recollection,  —  it  saved  her 
from  something  like  regret. 

She  longed  to  inquire  of  the  housekeeper  whether 
her  master  were  really  absent,  but  had  not  courage 
for  it.  At  length,  however,  the  question  was  asked 
by  her  uncle;  and  she  turned  away  with  alarm, 
while  Mrs.  Reynolds  replied  that  he  was;  adding, 
''But  we  expect  him  to-morrow,  with  a  large 
party  of  friends."  How  rejoiced  was  Elizabeth 
that  their  own  journey  had  not  by  any  circum- 
stance been  delayed  a  day! 

Her  aunt  now  called  her  to  look  at  a  picture. 
She  approached,  and  saw  the  likeness  of  Mr. 
Wickham,  suspended,  amongst  several  other  minia- 


84 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


tures,  over  the  mantelpiece.  Her  aunt  asked  her 
smilingly  how  she  liked  it.  The  housekeeper 
came  forward,  and  told  them  it  was  the  picture  of 
a  young  gentleman,  the  son  of  her  late  master's 
stev/ard,  who  had  heen  brought  up  by  him  at  his 
own  expense.  ^^He  is  now  gone  into  the  army,'' 
she  added;  ^^but  I  am  afraid  he  has  turned  out 
very  wild." 

Mrs.  Gardiner  looked  at  her  niece  with  a  smile, 
but  Elizabeth  could  not  return  it. 

^^And  that,"  said  Mrs.  Reynolds,  pointing  to 
another  of  the  miniatures,  ^^is  my  master,  — and 
very  like  him.  It  was  drawn  at  the  same  time 
as  the  other,  — about  eight  years  ago." 

^'I  have  heard  much  of  your  master's  fine  per- 
son," said  Mrs.  Gardiner,  looking  at  the  picture; 
"it  is  a  handsome  face.  But,  Lizzy,  you  can  tell 
us  whether  it  is  like  or  not." 

Mrs.  Reynolds's  respect  for  Elizabeth  seemed  to 
increase  on  this  intimation  of  her  knowing  her 
master. 

"  Does  that  young  lady  know  Mr.  Darcy?  " 
Elizabeth  colored,  and  said,  "A  little." 
"And  do  not  you  think  him  a  very  handsome 
gentleman,  ma'am?" 
"Yes,  very  handsome." 

"I  am  sure  I  know  none  so  handsome;  but  in 
the  gallery  upstairs  you  will  see  a  finer,  larger 
picture  of  him  than  this.    This  room  was  my  late 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  85 


master's  favorite  rooni,  and  these  miniatures  are 
just  as  they  used  to  be  then.  He  was  very  fond 
of  them.'' 

This  accounted  to  Elizabeth  for  Mr.  Wickham's 
being  among  them. 

Mrs.  Reynolds  then  directed  their  attention  to 
one  of  Miss  Darcy,  drawn  when  she  was  only  eight 
years  old. 

*^And  is  Miss  Darcy  as  handsome  as  her 
brother?''  said  Mr.  Gardiner. 

Oh,  yes,  —  the  handsomest  young  lady  that 
ever  was  seen;  and  so  accomplished!  She  plays 
and  sings  all  day  long.  In  the  next  room  is  a  new 
instrument  just  come  down  for  her,  — a  present  from 
my  master:  she  comes  here  to-morrow  with  him." 

Mr.  Gardiner,  whose  manners  were  easy  and 
pleasant,  encouraged  her  communicativeness  by 
his  questions  and  remarks:  Mrs.  Reynolds,  either 
from  pride  or  attachment,  had  evidently  great 
pleasure  in  talking  of  her  master  and  his  sister. 

^^Is  your  master  much  at  Pemberley  in  the 
course  of  the  year?  " 

*^Not  so  much  as  I  could  wish,  sir;  but  I  dare 
say  he  may  spend  half  his  time  here,  and  Miss 
Darcy  is  always  down  for  the  summer  months." 

'^Except,"  thought  Elizabeth,  ^^when  she  goes 
to  Ramsgate." 

*^If  your  master  would  marry,  you  might  see 
more  of  him." 


86  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


'*Yes,  sir;  but  I  do  not  know  when  that  will 
be.    I  do  not  know  who  is  good  enough  for  him.'' 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gardiner  smiled.  Elizabeth  could 
not  help  saying,  ^^It  is  very  much  to  his  credit,  I 
am  sure,  that  you  should  think  so.'' 

I  say  no  more  than  the  truth,  and  what  every- 
body will  say  that  knows  him,"  replied  the  other. 
Elizabeth  thought  this  was  going  pretty  far;  and 
she  listened  with  increasing  astonishment  as  the 
housekeeper  added,  "1  have  never  had  a  cross 
word  from  him  in  my  life,  and  I  have  known  him 
ever  since  he  was  four  years  old. ' ' 

This  was  praise  of  all  others  most  extraordinary, 
most  opposite  to  her  ideas.  That  he  was  not  a 
good-tempered  man  had  been  her  firmest  opinion. 
Her  keenest  attention  was  awakened;  she  longed 
to  hear  more,  and  was  grateful  to  her  uncle  for 
saying,  — 

There  are  very  few  people  of  whom  so  much 
can  be  said.  You  are  lucky  in  having  such  a 
master." 

^'Yes,  sir,  I  know  I  am.  If  I  were  to  go 
through  the  world,  I  could  not  meet  with  a  better. 
But  I  have  always  observed  that  they  who  are  good- 
natured  when  children  are  good-natured  when  they 
grow  up ;  and  he  was  always  the  sweetest-tempered, 
most  generous-hearted  boy  in  the  world." 

Elizabeth  almost  stared  at  her.  ^'Can  this  be 
Mr.  Darcy?  "  thought  she. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


87 


''His  father  was  an  excellent  man/'  said  Mrs. 
Gardiner. 

''Yes,  ma'am,  that  he  was  indeed;  and  his  son 
will  be  just  like  him,  —  just  as  affable  to  the 
poor." 

Elizabeth  listened,  wondered,  doubted,  and  was 
impatient  for  more.  Mrs.  Reynolds  could  interest 
her  on  no  other  point.  She  related  the  subjects  of 
the  pictures,  the  dimensions  of  the  rooms,  and  the 
price  of  the  furniture  in  vain.  Mr.  Gardiner, 
highly  amused  by  the  kind  of  family  prejudice  to 
which  he  attributed  her  excessive  commendation  of 
her  master,  soon  led  again  to  the  subject;  and  she 
dwelt  with  energy  on  his  many  merits,  as  they 
proceeded  together  up  the  great  staircase. 

"He  is  the  best  landlord  and  the  best  master,'' 
said  she,  "that  ever  lived.  Not  like  the  wild 
young  men  nowadays,  who  think  of  nothing  but 
themselves.  There  is  not  one  of  his  tenants  or 
servants  but  what  will  give  him  a  good  name. 
Some  people  call  him  proud;  but  I  am  sure  I 
never  saw  anything  of  it.  To  my  fancy,  it  is  only 
because  he  does  not  rattle  away  like  other  young 
men." 

"In  what  an  amiable  light  does  this  place 
him!  "  thought  Elizabeth. 

"This  fine  account  of  him,"  whispered  her  aunt 
as  they  walked,  "  is  not  quite  consistent  with  his 
behavior  to  our  poor  friend. ' ' 


88  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Perhaps  we  might  be  deceived." 
^'  That  is  not  very  likely;  our  authority  was  too 
good." 

On  reaching  the  spacious  lobby  above,  they  were 
shown  into  a  very  pretty  sitting-room,  lately  fitted 
up  with  greater  elegance  and  lightness  than  the 
apartments  below;  and  were  informed  that  it  was 
but  just  done  to  give  pleasure  to  Miss  Darcy,  who 
had  taken  a  liking  to  the  room  when  last  at 
Pemberley. 

**He  is  certainly  a  good  brother,"  said  Eliza- 
beth, as  she  walked  towards  one  of  the  windows. 

Mrs.  Eeynolds  anticipated  Miss  Darcy's  de- 
light when  she  should  enter  the  room.  ^^And 
this  is  always  the  way  with  him,"  she  added. 

Whatever  can  give  his  sister  any  pleasure  is 
sure  to  be  done  in  a  moment.  There  is  nothing 
he  would  not  do  for  her.'' 

The  picture-gallery  and  two  or  three  of  the 
principal  bedrooms  were  all  that  remained  to  be 
shown.  In  the  former  were  many  good  paintings : 
but  Elizabeth  knew  nothing  of  the  art;  and  from 
such  as  had  been  already  visible  below,  she  had 
willingly  turned  to  look  at  some  drawings  of  Miss 
Darcy's,  in  crayons,  whose  subjects  were  usually 
more  interesting  and  also  more  intelligible. 

In  the  gallery  there  were  many  family  portraits, 
but  they  could  have  little  to  fix  the  attention  of 
a  stranger.    Elizabeth  walked  on  in  quest  of  the 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


89 


only  face  whose  features  would  be  known  to  her. 
At  last  it  arrested  her;  and  she  beheld  a  striking 
resemblance  of  Mr.  Darcy,  with  such  a  smile  over 
the  face  as  she  remembered  to  have  sometimes  seen 
when  he  looked  at  her.  She  stood  several  minutes 
before  the  picture  in  earnest  contemplation,  and 
returned  to  it  again  before  they  quitted  the  gal- 
lery. Mrs.  Keynolds  informed  them  that  it  had 
been  taken  in  his  father's  lifetime. 

There  was  certainly  at  this  moment  in  Eliza- 
beth's mind  a  more  gentle  sensation  towards  the 
original  than  she  had  ever  felt  in  the  height  of 
their  acquaintance.  The  commendation  bestowed 
on  him  by  Mrs.  Keynolds  was  of  no  trifling  nature. 
What  praise  is  more  valuable  than  the  praise  of  an 
intelligent  servant?  As  a  brother,  a  landlord,  a 
master,  she  considered  how  many  people's  happi- 
ness were  in  his  guardianship!  How  much  of 
pleasure  or  pain  it  was  in  his  power  to  bestow! 
How  much  of  good  or  evil  must  be  done  by  him! 
Every  idea  that  had  been  brought  forward  by  the 
housekeeper  was  favorable  to  his  character;  and 
as  she  stood  before  the  canvas  on  which  he  was 
represented,  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  herself,  she 
thought  of  his  regard  with  a  deeper  sentiment  of 
gratitude  than  it  had  ever  raised  before;  she  re- 
membered its  warmth,  and  softened  its  impropriety 
of  expression. 

When  all  of  the  house  that  was  open  to  general 


90 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


inspection  had  been  seen,  they  returned  down- 
stairs j  and  taking  leave  of  the  housekeeper,  were 
consigned  over  to  the  gardener,  who  met  them  at 
the  hall  door. 

As  they  walked  across  the  lawn  towards  the 
river,  Elizabeth  turned  back  to  look  again.  Her 
uncle  and  aunt  stopped  also ;  and  while  the  former 
was  conjecturing  as  to  the  date  of  the  building,  the 
owner  of  it  himself  suddenly  came  forward  from 
the  road  which  led  behind  it  to  the  stables. 

They  were  within  twenty  yards  of  each  other, 
and  so  abrupt  was  his  appearance  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  avoid  his  sight.  Their  eyes  instantly 
met,  and  the  cheeks  of  each  were  overspread  with 
the  deepest  blush.  He  absolutely  started,  and  for 
a  moment  seemed  immovable  from  surprise;  but 
shortly  recovering  himself,  advanced  towards  the 
party,  and  spoke  to  Elizabeth,  if  not  in  terms  of 
perfect  composure,  at  least  of  perfect  civility. 

She  had  instinctively  turned  away;  but  stopping 
on  his  approach,  received  his  compliments  with  an 
embarrassment  impossible  to  be  overcome.  Had 
his  first  appearance,  or  his  resemblance  to  the  pic- 
ture they  had  just  been  examining,  been  insuffi- 
cient to  assure  the  other  two  that  they  now  saw 
Mr.  Darcy,  the  gardener's  expression  of  surprise 
on  beholding  his  master  must  immediately  have 
told  it.  They  stood  a  little  aloof  while  he  was 
talking  to  their  niece,  who,  astonished  and  con- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


91 


fused,  scarcely  dared  lift  her  eyes  to  his  face,  and 
knew  not  what  answer  she  returned  to  his  civil  in- 
quiries after  her  family.  Amazed  at  the  altera- 
tion of  his  manner  since  they  last  parted,  every 
sentence  that  he  uttered  was  increasing  her  em- 
barrassment; and  every  idea  of  the  impropriety  of 
her  being  found  there  recurring  to  her  mind,  the 
few  minutes  in  which  they  continued  together  were 
some  of  the  most  uncomfortable  of  her  life.  Nor 
did  he  seem  much  more  at  ease:  when  he  spoke, 
his  accent  had  none  of  its  usual  sedateness ;  and  he 
repeated  his  inquiries  as  to  the  time  of  her  having 
left  Longbourn  and  of  her  stay  in  Derbyshire  so 
often  and  in  so  hurried  a  way  as  plainly  spoke 
the  distraction  of  his  thoughts. 

At  length  every  idea  seemed  to  fail  him;  and 
after  standing  a  few  moments  without  saying  a 
word,  he  suddenly  recollected  himself,  and  took 
leave. 

The  others  then  joined  her,  and  expressed  their 
admiration  of  his  figure;  but  Elizabeth  heard  not 
a  word,  and,  wholly  engrossed  by  her  own  feelings, 
followed  them  in  silence.  She  was  overpowered 
by  shame  and  vexation.  Her  coming  there  was 
the  most  unfortunate,  the  most  ill-judged  thing  in 
the  world!  How  strange  must  it  appear  to  him! 
In  what  a  disgraceful  light  might  it  not  strike  so 
vain  a  man!  It  might  seem  as  if  she  had  pur- 
posely thrown  herself  in  his  way  again!  Oh! 


92 


PRIDE  Al^D  PREJUDICE. 


why  did  she  come?  or  why  did  he  thus  come  a  day 
before  he  was  expected?  Had  they  been  only  ten 
minutes  sooner,  they  should  have  been  beyond  the 
reach  of  his  discrimination;  for  it  was  plain  that 
he  was  that  moment  arrived,  that  moment  alighted 
from  his  horse  or  his  carriage.  She  blushed  again 
and  again  over  the  perverseness  of  the  meeting. 
And  his  behavior,  so  strikingly  altered,  —  what 
could  it  mean?  That  he  should  even  speak  to  her 
was  amazing !  —  but  to  speak  with  such  civility, 
to  inquire  after  her  family!  Never  in  her  life  had 
she  seen  his  manners  so  little  dignified,  never  had 
he  spoken  with  such  gentleness  as  on  this  unex- 
pected meeting.  What  a  contrast  did  it  offer  to 
his  last  address  in  Rosings  Park,  when  he  put  his 
letter  into  her  hand!  She  knew  not  what  to  think, 
or  how  to  account  for  it. 

They  had  now  entered  a  beautiful  walk  by  the 
side  of  the  water,  and  every  step  was  bringing  for- 
ward a  nobler  fall  of  ground,  or  a  finer  reach  of  the 
woods  to  which  they  were  approaching:  but  it  was 
some  time  before  Elizabeth  was  sensible  of  any  of 
it;  and  though  she  answered  mechanically  to  the 
repeated  appeals  of  her  uncle  and  aunt,  and  seemed 
to  direct  her  eyes  to  such  objects  as  they  pointed 
out,  she  distinguished  no  part  of  the  scene.  Her 
thoughts  were  all  fixed  on  that  one  spot  of  Pern- 
berley  House,  whichever  it  might  be,  where  Mr. 
Darcy  then  was.    She  longed  to  know  what  at  that 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


93 


moment  was  passing  in  his  mind;  in  what  manner 
he  thought  of  her,  and  whether,  in  defiance  of 
everything,  she  was  still  dear  to  him.  Perhaps 
he  had  been  civil  only  because  he  felt  himself  at 
ease;  yet  there  had  been  that  in  his  voice  which 
was  not  like  ease.  Whether  he  had  felt  more  of 
pain  or  of  pleasure  in  seeing  her,  she  could  not 
tell;  but  he  certainly  had  not  seen  her  with 
composure. 

At  length,  however,  the  remarks  of  her  compan 
ions  on  her  absence  of  mind  roused  her,  and  she 
felt  the  necessity  of  appearing  more  like  herself. 

They  entered  the  woods  and  bidding  adieu  to 
the  river  for  a  while,  ascended  some  of  the  higher 
grounds;  whence,  in  spots  where  the  opening  of 
the  trees  gave  the  eye  power  to  wander,  were  many 
charming  views  of  the  valley,  the  opposite  hills, 
with  the  long  range  of  woods  overspreading  many, 
and  occasionally  part  of  the  stream.  Mr.  Gardiner 
expressed  a  wish  of  going  round  the  whole  park, 
but  feared  it  might  be  beyond  a  walk.  With  a 
triumphant  smile,  they  were  told  that  it  was  ten 
miles  round.  It  settled  the  matter;  and  they  pur- 
sued the  accustomed  circuit,  which  brought  them 
again,  after  some  time,  in  a  descent  among  hang- 
ing woods,  to  the  edge  of  the  water,  and  one  of  its 
narrowest  parts.  They  crossed  it  by  a  simple 
bridge,  in  character  with  the  general  air  of  the 
scene  ,  it  was  a  spot  less  adorned  than  any  they 


94 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


had  yet  visited;  and  the  valley,  here  contracted 
into  a  glen,  allowed  room  only  for  the  stream,  and 
a  narrow  walk  amidst  the  rough  coppice-wood 
which  bordered  it.  Elizabeth  longed  to  explore 
its  windings;  but  when  they  had  crossed  the 
bridge,  and  perceived  their  distance  from  the 
house,  Mrs.  Gardiner,  who  was  not  a  great  walker, 
could  go  no  farther,  and  thought  only  of  returning 
to  the  carriage  as  quickly  as  possible.  Pier  niece 
was  therefore  obliged  to  submit,  and  they  took 
their  way  towards  the  house  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river,  in  the  nearest  direction;  but  their 
progress  was  slow,  for  Mr.  Gardiner,  though  sel- 
dom able  to  indulge  the  taste,  was  very  fond  of  fish- 
ing, and  was  so  much  engaged  in  watching  the 
occasional  appearance  of  some  trout  in  the  water, 
and  talking  to  the  man  about  them,  that  he  ad- 
vanced but  little.  Whilst  wandering  on  in  this 
slow  manner,  they  were  again  surprised,  and  Eliza- 
beth's astonishment  was  quite  equal  to  what  it  had 
been  at  first,  by  the  sight  of  Mr.  Darcy  approach- 
ing them,  and  at  no  great  distance.  The  walk 
being  here  less  sheltered  than  on  the  other  side, 
allowed  them  to  see  him  before  they  met.  Eliza- 
beth, however  astonished,  was  at  least  more  pre- 
pared for  an  interview  than  before,  and  resolved  to 
appear  and  to  speak  with  calmness,  if  he  really  in- 
tended to  meet  them.  For  a  few  moments,  indeed, 
she  felt  that  he  would  probably  strike  into  some 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


95 


<7ther  path.  The  idea  lasted  while  a  turning  in 
the  walk  concealed  him  from  their  view;  the  turn- 
ing past,  he  was  immediately  hefore  them.  With 
a  glance  she  saw  that  he  had  lost  none  of  his  recent 
civility;  and  to  imitate  his  politeness,  she  began, 
as  they  met,  to  admire  the  beauty  of  the  place ;  but 
she  had  not  got  beyond  the  words  ^'delightful'' 
and  charming,"  when  some  unlucky  recollections 
obtruded,  and  she  fancied  that  praise  of  Pemberley 
from  her  might  be  mischievously  construed.  Her 
color  changed,  and  she  said  no  more. 

Mrs.  Gardiner  was  standing  a  little  behind;  and 
on  her  pausing,  he  asked  her  if  she  would  do  him 
the  honor  of  introducing  him  to  her  friends.  This 
was  a  stroke  of  civility  for  which  she  was  quite  un- 
prepared; and  she  could  hardly  suppress  a  smile  at 
his  being  now  seeking  the  acquaintance  of  some 
of  those  very  people  against  whom  his  pride 
had  revolted,  in  his  offer  to  herself.  ''What  will 
be  his  surprise,"  thought  she,  "when  he  knows 
who  they  are !  He  takes  them  now  for  people  of 
fashion." 

The  introduction,  however,  was  immediately 
made ;  and  as  she  named  their  relationship  to  her- 
self, she  stole  a  sly  look  at  him,  to  see  how  he  bore 
it,  and  was  not  without  the  expectation  of  his  de- 
camping as  fast  as  he  could  from  such  disgraceful 
companions.  That  he  was  surprised  by  the  con- 
nection was  evident;  he  sustained  it,  however, 


96  PRIDE  AKD  PREJUDICE. 


with  fortitude,  and  so  far  from  going  away, 
turned  back  with  them,  and  entered  into  conver- 
sation with  Mr.  Gardiner.  Elizabeth  could  not 
but  be  pleased,  could  not  but  triumph.  It  was 
consoling  that  he  should  know  she  had  some  rela- 
tions for  whom  there  was  no  need  to  blush.  She 
listened  most  attentively  to  all  that  passed  between 
them,  and  gloried  in  every  expression,  every  sen- 
tence of  her  uncle,  which  marked  his  intelligence, 
his  taste,  or  his  good  manners. 

The  conversation  soon  turned  upon  fishing;  and 
she  heard  Mr.  Darcy  invite  him,  with  the  greatest 
civility,  to  fish  there  as  often  as  he  chose,  while 
he  continued  in  the  neighborhood,  offering  at  the 
same  time  to  supply  him  with  fishing-tackle,  and 
pointing  out  those  parts  of  the  stream  where  there 
was  usually  most  sport.  Mrs.  Gardiner,  who  was 
walking  arm  in  arm  with  Elizabeth,  gave  her  a 
look  expressive  of  her  wonder.  Elizabeth  said 
nothing,  but  it  gratified  her  exceedingly;  the  com- 
pliment must  be  all  for  herself.  Her  astonish- 
ment, however,  was  extreme ;  and  continually  was 
she  repeating,  ^^Why  is  he  so  altered?  From 
what  can  it  proceed?  It  cannot  be  for  me,  it  can- 
not be  for  my  sake  that  his  manners  are  thus  soft- 
ened. My  reproofs  at  Hunsford  could  not  work 
such  a  change  as  this.  It  is  impossible  that  he 
should  still  love  me.'' 

After  walking  some  time  in  this  way,  the  two 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


97 


ladies  in  front,  the  two  gentlemen  behind,  on  re- 
suming their  places,  after  descending  to  the  brink 
of  the  river  for  the  better  inspection  of  some  curi- 
ous water-plant,  there  chanced  to  be  a  little  al- 
teration. It  originated  in  Mrs.  Gardiner,  who, 
fatigued  by  the  exercise  of  the  morning,  found 
Elizabeth's  arm  inadequate  to  her  support,  and 
consequently  preferred  her  husband's.  Mr.  Darcy 
took  her  place  by  her  niece,  and  they  walked  on 
together.  After  a  short  silence  the  lady  first 
spoke.  She  wished  him  to  know  that  she  had  been 
assured  of  his  absence  before  she  came  to  the  place, 
and  accordingly  began  by  observing  that  his  ar- 
rival had  been  very  unexpected,  —  ^^for  your  house- 
keeper," she  added,  informed  us  that  you  would 
certainly  not  be  here  till  to-morrow;  and  indeed, 
before  we  left  Bakewell,  we  understood  that  you 
were  not  immediately  expected  in  the  country." 
He  acknowledged  the  truth  of  it  all,  and  said  that 
business  with  his  steward  had  occasioned  his  com- 
ing forward  a  few  hours  before  the  rest  of  the  party 
with  whom  he  had  been  travelling.  ^^They  will 
join  me  early  to-morrow,"  he  continued;  ^^and 
among  them  are  some  who  will  claim  an  acquaint- 
ance with  you,  — Mr.  Bingley  and  his  sisters." 

Elizabeth  answered  only  by  a  slight  bow.  Her 
thoughts  were  instantly  driven  back  to  the  time 
when  Mr.  Bingley's  name  had  been  last  men- 
tioned between  them;  and  if  she  might  judge 

VOL.  II.  —  7 


98  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


from  his  complexion,  his  mind  was  not  very  dif- 
ferently engaged. 

There  is  also  one  other  person  in  the  party/' 
he  continued  after  a  pause,  ^^who  more  particu- 
larly wishes  to  be  known  to  you.  Will  you  allow 
me,  or  do  I  ask  too  much,  to  introduce  my  sister  to 
your  acquaintance  during  your  stay  at  Lambton?  " 

The  surprise  of  such  an  application  was  great 
indeed;  it  was  too  great  for  her  to  know  in  what 
manner  she  acceded  to  it.  She  immediately  felt 
that  whatever  desire  Miss  Darcy  might  have  of 
being  acquainted  with  her  must  be  the  work  of 
her  brother,  and  without  looking  further,  it  was 
satisfactory ;  it  was  gratifying  to  know  that  his  re- 
sentment had  not  made  him  think  really  ill  of  her. 

They  now  walked  on  in  silence;  each  of  them 
deep  in  thought.  Elizabeth  was  not  comfortable, 
—  that  was  impossible;  but  she  was  flattered  and 
pleased.  His  wish  of  introducing  his  sister  to 
her  was  a  compliment  of  the  highest  kind.  They 
soon  outstripped  the  others;  and  when  they  had 
reached  the  carriage,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gardiner  were 
half  a  quarter  of  a  mile  behind. 

He  then  asked  her  to  walk  into  the  house ;  but 
she  declared  herself  not  tired,  and  they  stood  to- 
gether on  the  lawn.  At  such  a  time  much  might 
have  been  said,  and  silence  was  very  awkward. 
She  wanted  to  talk,  but  there  seemed  an  embargo 
on  every  subject.    At  last  she  recollected  that  she 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


90 


had  been  travelling,  and  they  talked  of  Matlock 
and  Dovedale  with  great  perseverance.  Yet  time 
and  her  aunt  moved  slowly,  and  her  patience 
and  her  ideas  were  nearly  worn  out  before  the 
tete-a-tete  was  over. 

On  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gardiner's  coming  up  they 
were  all  pressed  to  go  into  the  house  and  take 
some  refreshment;  but  this  was  declined,  and  they 
parted  on  each  side  with  the  utmost  politeness. 
Mr.  Darc}^  handed  the  ladies  into  the  carriage; 
and  when  it  drove  off,  Elizabeth  saw  him  walking 
slowly  towards  the  house. 

The  observations  of  her  uncle  and  aunt  now  be- 
gan; and  each  of  them  pronounced  him  to  be 
infinitely  superior  to  anything  they  had  expected. 
**He  is  perfectly  well  behaved,  polite,  and  unas- 
suming,'' said  her  uncle. 

There  is  something  a  little  stately  in  him,  to 
be  sure,"  replied  her  aunt;  ^'but  it  is  confined  to 
his  air,  and  is  not  unbecoming.  I  can  now  say 
with  the  housekeeper,  that  though  some  people 
may  call  him  proud,  I  ha.ve  seen  nothing  of  it." 

"I  was  never  more  surprised  than  by  his  be- 
havior to  us.  It  was  more  than  civil;  it  was 
really  attentive;  and  there  was  no  necessity  for 
such  attention.  His  acquaintance  with  Elizabeth 
was  very  trifling." 

'^To  be  sure,  Lizzy,"  said  her  aunt,  *^he  is  not 
so  handsome  as  Wickham;  or  rather  he  has  not 


100 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Wickham's  countenance,  for  his  features  are  per- 
fectly good.  But  how  came  you  to  tell  us  that  he 
was  so  disagreeable? 

Elizabeth  excused  herself  as  well  as  she  could,  — 
said  that  she  had  liked  him  better  when  they  met 
in  Kent  than  before,  and  that  she  had  never  seen 
him  so  pleasant  as  this  morning. 

^^But  perhaps  he  maybe  a  little  whimsical  in 
his  civilities,'^  replied  her  uncle.  ^'Your  great 
men  often  are ;  and  therefore  I  shall  not  take  him 
at  his  word  about  fishing,  as  he  might  change  his 
mind  another  day,  and  warn  me  off  his  grounds.'' 

Elizabeth  felt  that  they  had  entirely  mistaken 
his  character,  but  said  nothing. 

^^From  what  we  have  seen  of  him,"  continued 
Mrs.  Gardiner,  ^^I  really  should  not  have  thought 
that  he  could  have  behaved  in  so  cruel  a  way  by 
anybody  as  he  has  done  by  poor  Wickham.  He 
has  not  an  ill-natured  look.  On  the  contrary, 
there  is  something  pleasing  about  his  mouth  when 
he  speaks;  and  there  is  something  of  dignity  in 
his  countenance,  that  would  not  give  one  an  un- 
favorable idea  of  his  heart.  But,  to  be  sure,  the 
good  lady  who  showed  us  the  house  did  give  him 
a  most  flaming  character!  I  could  hardly  help 
laughing  aloud  sometimes.  But  he  is  a  liberal 
master,  I  suppose;  and  that,  in  the  eye  of  a  ser- 
vant, comprehends  every  virtue." 

Elizabeth  here  felt  herself  called  on  to  say  some- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


101 


thing  in  vindication  of  his  behavior  to  Wickham; 
and  therefore  gave  them  to  understand,  in  as 
guarded  a  manner  as  she  could,  that  by  what  she 
had  heard  from  his  relations  in  Kent,  his  actions 
were  capable  of  a  very  different  construction,  and 
that  his  character  was  by  no  means  so  faulty,  nor 
Wickham's  so  amiable,  as  they  had  been  consid- 
ered in  Hertfordshire.  In  confirmation  of  this, 
she  related  the  particulars  of  all  the  pecuniary 
transactions  in  which  they  had  been  connected, 
without  actually  naming  her  authority,  but  stating 
it  to  be  such  as  might  be  relied  on. 

Mrs.  Gardiner  was  surprised  and  concerned;  but 
as  they  were  now  approaching  the  scene  of  her 
former  pleasures,  every  idea  gave  way  to  the 
charm  of  recollection,  and  she  was  too  much  en- 
gaged in  pointing  out  to  her  husband  all  the  inter- 
esting spots  in  its  environs  to  think  of  anything 
else.  Fatigued  as  she  had  been  by  the  morning's 
walk,  they  had  no  sooner  dined  than  she  set  off 
again  in  quest  of  her  former  acquaintance,  and  the 
evening  was  spent  in  the  satisfactions  of  an  inter- 
course renewed  after  many  years'  discontinuance. 

The  occurrences  of  the  day  were  too  full  of  in- 
terest to  leave  Elizabeth  much  attention  for  any  of 
these  new  friends ;  and  she  could  do  nothing  but 
think,  and  think  with  wonder,  of  Mr.  Darcy's 
civility,  and  above  all,  of  his  wishing  her  to  be 
acquainted  with  his  sister. 


CHAPTEE  XI. 


Elizabeth  had  settled  it  that  Mr.  Darcy  would 
hring  his  sister  to  visit  her  the  very  day  after  her 
reaching  Pemberley,  and  was,  consequently,  re- 
solved not  to  be  out  of  sight  of  the  inn  the  whole 
of  that  morning.  But  her  conclusion  was  false; 
for  on  the  very  morning  after  their  own  arrival  at 
Lambton,  these  visitors  came.  They  had  been 
walking  about  the  place  with  some  of  their  new 
friends,  and  were  just  returned  to  the  inn  to  dress 
themselves  for  dining  with  the  same  family,  when 
the  sound  of  a  carriage  drew  them  to  a  window, 
and  they  saw  a  gentleman  and  lady  in  a  curricle 
driving  up  the  street.  Elizabeth,  immediately 
recognizing  the  livery,  guessed  what  it  meant,  and 
imparted  no  small  degree  of  surprise  to  her  rela- 
tions by  acquainting  them  with  the  honor  which 
she  expected.  Her  uncle  and  aunt  were  all  amaze- 
ment; and  the  embarrassment  of  her  manner  as  she 
spoke,  joined  to  the  circumstance  itself,  and  many 
of  the  circumstances  of  the  preceding  day,  opened 
to  them  a  new  idea  on  the  business.  Nothing  had 
ever  suggested  it  before,  but  they  now  felt  that 
there  was  no  other  way  of  accounting  for  such  at- 


PRIDE  AND  TREJUDICE.  103 


tentions  from  such  a  quarter  than  hy  supposing  a 
partiality  for  their  niece.  While  these  newly  born 
notions  were  passing  in  their  heads,  the  pertur- 
bation of  Elizabeth's  feelings  was  every  moment 
increasing.  She  was  quite  amazed  at  her  own 
discomposure;  but  amongst  other  causes  of  dis- 
quiet, she  dreaded  lest  the  partiality  of  the  brother 
should  have  said  too  much  in  her  favor;  and  more 
than  commonly  anxious  to  please,  she  naturally 
suspected  that  every  power  of  pleasing  would  fail 
her. 

She  retreated  from  the  window,  fearful  of  being 
seen;  and  as  she  walked  up  and  down  the  room, 
endeavoring  to  compose  herself,  saw  such  looks  of 
inquiring  surprise  in  her  uncle  and  aunt  as  made 
everything  worse. 

Miss  Darcy  and  her  brother  appeared,  and  this 
formidable  introduction  took  place.  With  aston- 
ishment did  Elizabeth  see  that  her  new  acquaint- 
ance was  at  least  as  much  embarrassed  as  herself. 
Since  her  being  at  Lambton,  she  had  heard  that 
Miss  Darcy  was  exceedingly  proud;  but  the  obser- 
vation of  a  very  few  minutes  convinced  her  that 
she  was  only  exceedingly  shy.  She  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  obtain  even  a  word  from  her  beyond  a 
monosyllable. 

Miss  Darcy  was  tall,  and  on  a  larger  scale  than 
Elizabeth;  and  though  little  more  than  sixteen, 
her  figure  was  formed,  and  her  appearance  womanly 


104  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 

and  graceful.  She  was  less  handsome  than  her 
brother,  but  there  was  sense  and  good-humor  in 
her  face,  and  her  manners  were  perfectly  unassum- 
ing and  gentle.  Elizabeth,  who  had  expected  to 
find  in  her  as  acute  and  unembarrassed  an  observer 
as  ever  Mr.  Darcy  had  been,  was  much  relieved  by 
discerning  such  different  feelings. 

They  had  not  been  long  together  before  Darcy 
told  her  that  Bingley  was  also  coming  to  wait  on 
her;  and  she  had  barely  time  to  express  her  satis- 
faction, and  prepare  for  such  a  visitor,  when  Bing- 
ley's  quick  step  was  heard  on  the  stairs,  and  in  a 
moment  he  entered  the  room.  All  Elizabeth's 
anger  against  him  had  been  long  done  away;  but 
had  she  still  felt  any,  it  could  hardly  have  stood 
its  ground  against  the  unaffected  cordiality  with 
which  he  expressed  himself  on  seeing  her  again. 
He  inquired,  in  a  friendly  though  general  way, 
after  her  family,  and  looked  and  spoke  with  the 
same  good-humored  ease  that  he  had  ever  done. 

To  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gardiner  he  was  scarcely  a 
less  interesting  personage  than  to  herself.  They 
had  long  wished  to  see  him.  The  whole  party 
before  them,  indeed,  excited  a  lively  attention. 
The  suspicions  which  had  just  arisen  of  Mr.  Darcy 
and  their  niece  directed  their  observation  towards 
each  with  an  earnest  though  guarded  inquiry; 
and  they  soon  drew  from  those  inquiries  the  full 
conviction  that  one  of  them  at  least  knew  what  it 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  105 


was  to  love.  Of  the  lady's  sensations  they  re- 
mained a  little  in  doubt,  but  that  the  gentleman 
was  overflowing  with  admiration  was  evident 
enough. 

Elizabeth,  on  her  side,  had  much  to  do.  She 
wanted  to  ascertain  the  feelings  of  each  of  her  visi- 
tors, she  wanted  to  compose  her  own,  and  to  make 
herself  agreeable  to  all;  and  in  the  latter  object, 
where  she  feared  most  to  fail,  she  was  most  sure 
of  success,  for  those  to  whom  she  endeavored  to 
give  pleasure  were  prepossessed  in  her  favor. 
Bingley  was  ready,  Georgiana  was  eager,  and 
Darcy  determined,  to  be  pleased. 

In  seeing  Bingley,  her  thoughts  naturally  flew 
to  her  sister;  and  oh!  how  ardently  did  she  long 
to  know  whether  any  of  his  were  directed  in  a  like 
manner!  Sometimes  she  could  fancy  that  he  talked 
less  than  on  former  occasions,  and  once  or  twice 
pleased  herself  with  the  notion  that  as  he  looked 
at  her,  he  was  trying  to  trace  a  resemblance.  But 
though  this  might  be  imaginary,  she  could  not  be 
deceived  as  to  his  behavior  to  Miss  Darcy,  who  had 
been  set  up  as  a  rival  to  Jane.  No  look  appeared 
on  either  side  that  spoke  particular  regard.  Noth- 
ing occurred  between  them  that  could  justify  the 
hopes  of  his  sister.  On  this  point  she  was  soon 
satisfied;  and  two  or  three  little  circumstances 
occurred  ere  they  parted,  which  in  her  anxious 
interpretation  denoted  a  recollection  of  Jane  not 


106 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


untinctured  by  tenderness,  and  a  wish  of  saying 
more  that  might  lead  to  the  mention  of  her,  had 
he  dared.  He  observed  to  her,  at  a  moment  when 
the  others  were  talking  together,  and  in  a  tone 
which  had  something  of  real  regret,  that  it  was 
a  very  long  time  since  he  had  had  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  her;  and  before  she  could  reply,  he 
added:  It  is  above  eight  months.  We  have  not 
met  since  the  26th  of  November,  when  we  were  all 
dancing  together  at  Netherfield. " 

Elizabeth  was  pleased  to  find  his  memory  so  ex- 
act; and  he  afterwards  took  occasion  to  ask  her, 
when  unattended  to  by  any  of  the  rest,  whether  all 
her  sisters  were  at  Longbourn.  There  was  not 
much  in  the  question,  nor  in  the  preceding  re- 
mark; but  there  was  a  look  and  a  manner  which 
gave  them  meaning. 

It  was  not  often  that  she  could  turn  her  eyes  on 
Mr.  Darcy  himself;  but  whenever  she  did  catch  a 
glimpse  she  saw  an  expression  of  general  complai- 
sance, and  in  all  that  he  said  she  heard  an  accent 
so  far  removed  from  hauteur  or  disdain  of  his  com- 
panions, as  convinced  her  that  the  improvement  of 
manners  which  she  had  yesterday  witnessed,  how- 
ever temporary  its  existence  might  prove,  had  at 
least  outlived  one  day.  When  she  saw  him  thus 
seeking  the  acquaintance  and  courting  the  good 
opinion  of  people  with  whom  any  intercourse  a  few 
months  ago  would  have  been  a  disgrace ;  when  she 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  107 


saw  him  thus  civil,  not  only  to  herself,  but  to  the 
very  relations  whom  he  had  openly  disdained,  and 
recollected  their  last  lively  scene  in  Hunsford  Par- 
sonage, the  difference,  the  change  was  so  great, 
and  struck  so  forcibly  on  her  mind,  that  she  could 
hardly  restrain  her  astonishment  from  being  visi- 
ble. Never,  even  in  the  company  of  his  dear 
friends  at  Netherfield  or  his  dignified  relations  at 
E-osings,  had  she  seen  him  so  desirous  to  please, 
so  free  from  self-consequence  or  unbending  reserve, 
as  now,  when  no  importance  could  result  from  the 
success  of  his  endeavors,  and  when  even  the  ac- 
quaintance of  those  to  whom  his  attentions  were 
addressed,  would  draw  down  the  ridicule  and 
censure  of  the  ladies  both  of  Netherfield  and 
Kosings. 

Their  visitors  stayed  with  them  above  half  an 
hour;  and  when  they  arose  to  depart,  Mr.  Darcy 
called  on  his  sister  to  join  him  in  expressing  their 
wish  of  seeing  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gardiner,  and  Miss 
Bennet,  to  dinner  at  Pemberley,  before  they  left 
the  country.  Miss  Darcy,  though  with  a  diffidence 
which  marked  her  little  in  the  habit  of  giving  in- 
vitations, readily  obeyed.  Mrs.  Gardiner  looked 
at  her  niece,  desirous  of  knowing  how  she,  whom 
the  invitation  most  concerned,  felt  disposed  as  to 
its  acceptance ;  but  Elizabeth  had  turned  away  her 
head.  Presuming,  however,  that  this  studied 
avoidance  spoke  rather  a  momentary  embarrass- 


108  PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


ment  than  any  dislike  of  the  proposal,  and  seeing 
in  her  husband,  who  was  fond  of  society,  a  perfect 
willingness  to  accept  it,  she  ventured  to  engage 
for  her  attendance,  and  the  day  after  the  next  was 
fixed  on. 

Bingley  expressed  great  pleasure  in  the  cer- 
tainty of  seeing  Elizabeth  again,  having  still  a 
great  deal  to  say  to  her,  and  many  inquiries  to 
make  after  all  their  Hertfordshire  friends.  Eliza- 
beth, construing  all  this  into  a  wish  of  hearing 
her  speak  of  her  sister,  was  pleased;  and  on  this 
account,  as  well  as  some  others,  found  herself, 
when  their  visitors  left  them,  capable  of  consider- 
ing the  last  half-hour  with  some  satisfaction, 
though  while  it  was  passing  the  enjoyment  of  it 
had  been  little.  Eager  to  be  alone,  and  fearful 
of  inquiries  or  hints  from  her  uncle  and  aunt,  she 
stayed  with  them  only  long  enough  to  hear  their 
favorable  opinion  of  Bingley,  and  then  hurried 
away  to  dress. 

But  she  had  no  reason  to  fear  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Gardiner's  curiosity;  it  was  not  their  wish  to  force 
her  communication.  It  was  evident  that  she  was 
much  better  acquainted  with  Mr.  Darcy  than  they 
had  before  any  idea  of;  it  was  evident  that  he  was 
very  much  in  love  with  her.  They  saw  much  to 
interest,  but  nothing  to  j^istify  inquiry. 

Of  Mr.  Darcy  it  was  now  a  matter  of  anxiety 
to  think  well;  and  as  far  as  their  acquaintance 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


109 


reached,  there  was  no  fault  to  find.  They  could 
not  be  untouched  by  his  politeness  j  and  had  they 
drawn  his  character  from  their  own  feelings  and 
his  servant's  report,  without  any  reference  to  any 
other  account,  the  circle  in  Hertfordshire  to  which 
he  was  known  would  not  have  recognized  it  for 
Mr.  Darcy.  There  was  now  an  interest,  however, 
in  believing  the  housekeeper;  and  they  soon  be- 
came sensible  that  the  authority  of  a  servant  who 
had  known  him  since  he  was  four  years  old,  and 
whose  own  manners  indicated  respectability,  was 
not  to  be  hastily  rejected.  Neither  had  anything 
occurred  in  the  intelligence  of  their  Lambton 
friends  that  could  materially  lessen  its  weight. 
They  had  nothing  to  accuse  him  of  but  pride; 
pride  he  probably  had,  and  if  not,  it  would  cer- 
tainly be  imputed  by  the  inhabitants  of  a  small 
market  town  where  the  family  did  not  visit.  It 
was  acknowledged,  however,  that  he  was  a  liberal 
man,  and  did  much  good  among  the  poor. 

With  respect  to  Wickham,  the  travellers  soon 
found  that  he  was  not  held  there  in  much  estima- 
tion ;  for  though  the  chief  of  his  concerns  with  the 
son  of  his  patron  were  imperfectly  understood,  it 
was  yet  a  well-known  fact  that  on  his  quitting 
Derbyshire,  he  had  left  many  debts  behind  him, 
which  Mr.  Darcy  afterwards  discharged. 

As  for  Elizabeth,  her  thoughts  were  at  Pember- 
ley  this  evening  more  than  the  last ;  and  the  even- 


110  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


ing,  though  as  it  passed  it  seemed  long,  was  not 
long  enough  to  determine  her  feelings  towards  one 
in  that  mansion;  and  she  lay  awake  two  whole 
hours,  endeavoring  to  make  them  out.  She  cer- 
tainly did  not  hate  him.  No ;  hatred  had  vanished 
long  ago,  and  she  had  almost  as  long  heen  ashamed 
of  ever  feeling  a  dislike  against  him  that  could  he 
so  called.  The  respect  created  hy  the  conviction 
of  his  valuable  qualities,  though  at  first  unwill- 
ingly admitted,  had  for  some  time  ceased  to  be 
repugnant  to  her  feelings ;  and  it  was  now  height- 
ened into  somewhat  of  a  friendlier  nature  by  the 
testimony  so  highly  in  his  favor,  and  bringing  for- 
ward his  disposition  in  so  amiable  a  light,  which 
yesterday  had  produced.  But  above  all,  above  re- 
spect and  esteem,  there  was  a  motive  within  her  of 
good-will  which  could  not  be  overlooked.  It  was 
gratitude,  —  gratitude,  not  merely  for  having 
once  loved  her,  but  for  loving  her  still  well 
enough  to  forgive  all  the  petulance  and  acrimony 
of  her  manner  in  rejecting  him,  and  all  the  unjust 
accusations  accompanying  her  rejection.  He  who 
she  had  been  persuaded  would  avoid  her  as  his 
greatest  enemy,  seemed,  on  this  accidental  meet- 
ing, most  eager  to  preserve  the  acquaintance,  and 
without  SiTij  indelicate  display  of  regard,  or  any 
peculiarity  of  manner,  where  their  two  selves  only 
were  concerned,  was  soliciting  the  good  opinion  of 
her  friends,  and  bent  on  making  her  known  to  his 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  Ill 


sister.  Such  a  change  in  a  man  of  so  much  pride 
excited  not  only  astonishment  but  gratitude,  —  for 
to  love,  ardent  love,  it  must  be  attributed;  and  as 
such,  its  impression  on  her  was  of  a  sort  to  be  en- 
couraged, as  by  no  means  unpleasing,  though  it 
could  not  be  exactly  defined.  She  respected,  she 
esteemed,  she  was  grateful  to  him,  she  felt  a  real 
interest  in  his  welfare;  and  she  only  wanted  to 
know  how  far  she  wished  that  welfare  to  depend 
upon  herself,  and  how  far  it  would  be  for  the  hap- 
piness of  both  that  she  should  employ  the  power, 
which  her  fancy  told  her  she  still  possessed,  of 
bringing  on  the  renewal  of  his  addresses. 

It  had  been  settled  in  the  evening,  between  the 
aunt  and  niece,  that  such  a  striking  civility  as 
Miss  Darcy's,  in  coming  to  them  on  the  very  day 
of  her  arrival  at  Pemberley,  for  she  had  reached 
it  only  to  a  late  breakfast,  ought  to  be  imitated, 
though  it  could  not  be  equalled,  by  some  exertion 
of  politeness  on  their  side,  and  consequently 
that  it  would  be  highly  expedient  to  wait  on  her 
at  Pemberley  the  following  morning.  They  were, 
therefore,  to  go.  Elizabeth  was  pleased;  though 
when  she  asked  herself  the  reason,  she  had  very 
little  to  say  in  reply. 

Mr.  Gardiner  left  them  soon  after  breakfast.  The 
fishing  scheme  had  been  renewed  the  day  before, 
and  a  positive  engagement  made  of  his  meeting 
some  of  the  gentlemen  at  Pemberley  by  noon. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Convinced  as  Elizabetli  now  was  that  Miss 
Bingley's  dislike  of  her  had  originated  in  jeal- 
ousy, she  could  not  help  feeling  how  very  unwel- 
come her  appearance  at  Pemberley  must  be  to  her, 
and  was  curious  to  know  with  how  much  civility 
on  that  lady's  side  the  acquaintance  would  now 
be  renewed. 

On  reaching  the  house,  they  were  shown  through 
the  hall  into  the  saloon,  whose  northern  aspect 
rendered  it  delightful  for  summer.  Its  windows, 
opening  to  the  ground,  admitted  a  most  refresh- 
ing view  of  the  high  woody  hills  behind  the  house, 
and  of  the  beautiful  oaks  and  Spanish  chestnuts 
which  were  scattered  over  the  intermediate  lawn. 

In  this  room  they  were  received  by  Miss  Darcy, 
who  was  sitting  there  with  Mrs.  Hurst  and  Miss 
Bingley,  and  the  lady  with  whom  she  lived  in  Lon- 
don. Georgiana's  reception  of  them  was  very  civil, 
but  attended  with  all  that  embarrassment  which, 
though  proceeding  from  shyness  and  the  fear  of  do- 
ing wrong,  would  easily  give  to  those  who  felt  them- 
selves inferior  the  belief  of  her  being  proud  and 


PEIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


113 


reserved.  Mrs.  Gardiner  and  her  niece,  however, 
did  her  justice,  and  pitied  her. 

By  Mrs.  Hurst  and  Miss  Bingley  they  were 
noticed  only  hy  a  courtesy;  and  on  their  being 
seated,  a  pause,  awkward  as  such  pauses  must 
always  be,  succeeded  for  a  few  moments.  It  was 
first  broken  by  Mrs.  Annesley,  a  genteel,  agree- 
able-looking woman,  whose  endeavor  to  introduce 
some  kind  of  discourse  proved  her  to  be  more 
truly  well-bred  than  either  of  the  others;  and 
between  her  and  Mrs.  Gardiner,  with  occasional 
help  from  Elizabeth,  the  conversation  was  carried 
on.  Miss  Darcy  looked  as  if  she  wished  for  cour- 
age enough  to  join  in  it;  and  sometimes  did 
venture  a  short  sentence,  when  there  was  least 
danger  of  its  being  heard. 

Elizabeth  soon  saw  that  she  was  herself  closely 
watched  by  Miss  Bingley,  and  that  she  could 
not  speak  a  word,  especially  to  Miss  Darcy,  with- 
out calling  her  attention.  This  observation  would 
not  have  prevented  her  from  trying  to  talk  to 
the  latter,  had  they  not  been  seated  at  an  incon- 
venient distance;  but  she  was  not  sorry  to  be 
spared  the  necessity  of  saying  much:  her  own 
thoughts  were  employing  her.  She  expected  every 
moment  that  some  of  the  gentlemen  would  enter 
the  room:  she  wished,  she  feared,  that  the  master 
of  the  house  might  be  amongst  them ;  and  whether 
she  wished  or  feared  it  most,  she  could  scarcely 

VOL.  II.  —  8 


114  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


determine.  After  sitting  in  this  manner  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  without  hearing  Miss  Bingley's 
voice,  Elizabeth  was  roused  by  receiving  from  her 
a  cold  inquiry  after  the  health  of  her  family. 
She  answered  with  equal  indifference  and  brevity, 
and  the  other  said  no  more. 

The  next  variation  which  their  visit  afforded 
was  produced  by  the  entrance  of  servants  with 
cold  meat,  cake,  and  a  variety  of  all  the  finest 
fruits  in  season;  but  this  did  not  take  place  till 
after  many  a  significant  look  and  smile  from 
Mrs.  Annesley  to  Miss  Darcy  had  been  given, 
to  remind  her  of  her  post.  There  was  now  em- 
ployment for  the  whole  party;  for  though  they 
could  not  all  talk,  they  could  all  eat;  and  the 
beautiful  pyramids  of  grapes,  nectarines,  and 
peaches  soon  collected  them  round  the  table. 

While  thus  engaged,  Elizabeth  had  a  fair  op- 
portunity of  deciding  whether  she  most  feared 
or  wished  for  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Darcy,  by 
the  feelings  which  prevailed  on  his  entering  the 
room;  and  then,  though  but  a  moment  before 
she  had  believed  her  wishes  to  predominate,  she 
began  to  regret  that  he  came. 

He  had  been  some  time  with  Mr.  Gardiner, 
who  with  two  or  three  other  gentlemen  from  the 
house  was  engaged  by  the  river,  and  had  left 
him  only  on  learning  that  the  ladies  of  the  family 
intended  a  visit  to  Georgiana  that  morning.  No 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  115 


sooner  did  he  appear,  than  Elizabeth  wisely  re- 
solved to  be  perfectly  easy  and  unembarrassed,  — 
a  resolution  the  more  necessary  to  be  made,  but 
perhaps  not  the  more  easily  kept,  because  she 
saw  that  the  suspicions  of  the  whole  party  were 
awakened  against  them,  and  that  there  was  scarcely 
an  eye  which  did  not  watch  his  behavior  when 
he  first  came  into  the  room.  In  no  countenance 
was  attentive  curiosity  so  strongly  marked  as  in 
Miss  Bingley's,  in  spite  of  the  smiles  which  over- 
spread her  face  whenever  she  spoke  to  one  of  its 
objects;  for  jealousy  had  not  yet  made  her  desper- 
ate, and  her  attentions  to  Mr.  Darcy  were  by  no 
means  over.  Miss  Darcy,  on  her  brother's  en- 
trance, exerted  herself  much  more  to  talk;  and 
Elizabeth  saw  that  he  was  anxious  for  his  sister 
and  herself  to  get  acquainted,  and  forwarded,  as 
much  as  possible,  every  attempt  at  conversation  on 
either  side.  Miss  Bingley  saw  all  this  likewise; 
and  in  the  imprudence  of  anger,  took  the  first 
opportunity  of  saying,  with  sneering  civility,  — 

^^Pray,  Miss  Eliza,  are  not  the   shire  mili- 
tia removed  from  Meryton?  They  must  be  a  great 
loss  to  your  family." 

In  Darcy 's  presence  she  dared  not  mention 
Wickham's  name;  but  Elizabeth  instantly  com- 
prehended that  he  was  uppermost  in  her  thoughts, 
and  the  various  recollections  connected  with  him 
gave  her  a  moment's  distress;  but  exerting  her- 


116 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


self  vigorously  to  repel  the  ill-natured  attack, 
she  presently  answered  the  question  in  a  tolerably 
disengaged  tone.  While  she  spoke,  an  involun- 
tary glance  showed  her  Darcy  with  a  heightened 
complexion  earnestly  looking  at  her,  and  his 
sister  overcome  with  confusion,  and  unable  to 
lift  up  her  eyes.  Had  Miss  Bingley  known  what 
pain  she  was  then  giving  her  beloved  friend,  she 
undoubtedly  would  have  refrained  from  the  hint; 
but  she  had  merely  intended  to  discompose  Eliza- 
beth, by  bringing  forward  the  idea  of  a  man  to 
whom  she  believed  her  partial,  to  make  her  betray 
a  sensibility  which  might  injure  her  in  Darcy's 
opinion,  and  perhaps  to  remind  the  latter  of  all 
the  follies  and  absurdities  by  which  some  part 
of  her  family  were  connected  with  that  corps. 
Not  a  syllable  had  ever  reached  her  of  Miss 
Darcy's  meditated  elopement.  To  no  creature  had 
it  been  revealed,  where  secrecy  was  possible,  ex- 
cept to  Elizabeth;  and  from  all  Bingley's  con- 
nections her  brother  was  particularly  anxious  to 
conceal  it,  from  that  very  wish  which  Elizabeth 
had  long  ago  attributed  to  him,  of  their  becoming 
hereafter  her  own.  He  had  certainly  formed  such 
a  plan ;  and  without  meaning  that  it  should  affect 
his  endeavor  to  separate  him  from  Miss  Bennet, 
it  is  probable  that  it  might  add  something  to  his 
lively  concern  for  the  welfare  of  his  friend. 

Elizabeth's  collected  behavior,  however,  soon 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


117 


quieted  his  emotion;  and  as  Miss  Bingley,  vexed 
and  disappointed,  dared  not  approach  nearer  to 
Wickham,  Georgiana  also  recovered  in  time, 
though  not  enough  to  be  able  to  speak  any  more. 
Her  brother,  whose  eye  she  feared  to  meet,  scarcely 
recollected  her  interest  in  the  affair;  and  the  very 
circumstance  which  had  been  designed  to  turn  his 
thoughts  from  Elizabeth  seemed  to  have  fixed 
them  on  her  more  and  more  cheerfully. 

Their  visit  did  not  continue  long  after  the  ques- 
tion and  answer  above  mentioned;  and  while  Mr. 
Darcy  was  attending  them  to  their  carriage,  Miss 
Bingley  was  venting  her  feelings  in  criticisms 
on  Elizabeth's  person,  behavior,  and  dress.  But 
Georgiana  would  not  join  her.  Her  brother's 
recommendation  was  enough  to  insure  her  favor: 
his  judgment  could  not  err;  and  he  had  spoken  in 
such  terms  of  Elizabeth  as  to  leave  Georgiana 
without  the  power  of  finding  her  otherwise  than 
lovely  and  amiable.  When  Darcy  returned  to  the 
saloon.  Miss  Bingley  could  not  help  repeating  to 
him  some  part  of  what  she  had  been  saying  to  his 
sister. 

^^How  very  ill  Eliza  Bennet  looks  this  morn- 
ing, Mr.  Darcy!  "  she  cried.  ^'I  never  in  my  life 
saw  any  one  so  much  altered  as  she  is  since  the 
winter.  She  is  grown  so  brown  and  coarse! 
Louisa  and  I  were  agreeing  that  we  should  no^ 
Vave  known  her  again." 


118 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


However  little  Mr.  Darcy  might  have  liked  such 
an  address,  he  contented  himself  with  coolly  re- 
plying  that  he  perceived  no  other  alteration  than 
her  being  rather  tanned,  —  no  miraculous  conse- 
quence of  travelling  in  the  summer. 

^^For  my  own  part,''  she  rejoined,  ^'I  must 
confess  that  I  never  could  see  any  beauty  in  her. 
Her  face  is  too  thin ;  her  complexion  has  no  bril- 
liancy, and  her  features  are  not  at  all  handsome. 
Her  nose  wants  character ;  there  is  nothing  marked 
in  its  lines.  Her  teeth  are  tolerable,  but  not  out 
of  the  common  way;  and  as  for  her  eyes,  which 
have  sometimes  been  called  so  fine,  I  never  could 
perceive  anything  extraordinary  in  them.  They 
have  a  sharp,  shrewish  look,  which  I  do  not  like 
at  all;  and  in  her  air  altogether  there  is  a  self- 
sufficiency  without  fashion,  which  is  intolerable.'' 

Persuaded  as  Miss  Bingley  was  that  Darcy  ad- 
mired Elizabeth,  this  was  not  the  best  method  of 
recommending  herself;  but  angry  people  are  not 
always  wise;  and  in  seeing  him  at  last  look  some- 
what nettled,  she  had  all  the  success  she  expected. 
He  was  resolutely  silent,  however;  and  from  a  de- 
termination of  making  him  speak,  she  continued,  — 

^^I  remember,  when  we  first  knew  her  in  Hert- 
fordshire, how  amazed  we  all  were  to  find  that  she 
was  a  reputed  beauty;  and  I  particularly  recollect 
your  saying  one  night,  after  they  had  been  dining 
at  Netherfield,  ^  She  a  beauty !    I  should  as  soon 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  119 


call  her  mother  a  wit. '  But  afterwards  she  seemed 
to  improve  on  you,  and  I  believe  you  thought  her 
rather  pretty  at  one  time.'' 

Yes,"  replied  Darcy,  who  could  contain  him- 
self no  longer,  ^^but  that  was  only  when  I  first 
knew  her;  for  it  is  many  months  since  I  have  con- 
sidered her  as  one  of  the  handsomest  women  of  my 
acquaintance." 

He  then  went  away,  and  Miss  Bingley  was  left 
to  all  the  satisfaction  of  having  forced  him  to  say 
what  gave  no  one  any  pain  but  herself. 

Mrs.  Gardiner  and  Elizabeth  talked  of  all  that 
had  occurred  during  their  visit  as  they  returned, 
except  what  had  particularly  interested  them  both. 
The  looks  and  behavior  of  everybody  they  had 
seen  were  discussed,  except  of  the  person  who  had 
mostly  engaged  their  attention.  They  talked  of 
his  sister,  his  friends,  his  house,  his  fruit,  of 
everything  but  himself;  yet  Elizabeth  was  long- 
ing to  know  what  Mrs.  Gardiner  thought  of  him, 
and  Mrs.  Gardiner  would  have  been  highly  grati- 
fied by  her  niece's  beginning  the  subject. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Elizabeth  had  been  a  good  deal  disappointed  in 
not  finding  a  letter  from  Jane  on  their  first  arrival 
at  Lambton,  and  this  disappointment  had  been 
renewed  on  each  of  the  mornings  that  had  now- 
been  spent  there;  but  on  the  third  her  repining 
was  over,  and  her  sister  justified,  by  the  receipt  of 
two  letters  from  her  at  once,  on  one  of  which 
was  marked  that  it  had  been  missent  elsewhere. 
Elizabeth  was  not  surprised  at  it,  as  Jane  had 
written  the  direction  remarkabl}^  ill. 

They  had  just  been  preparing  to  walk  as  the 
letters  came  in;  and  her  uncle  and  aunt,  leaving 
her  to  enjoy  them  in  quiet,  set  off  by  themselves. 
The  one  missent  must  be  first  attended  to;  it  had 
been  written  five  days  ago.  The  beginning  con- 
tained an  account  of  all  their  little  parties  and 
engagements,  with  such  news  as  the  country 
afforded;  but  the  latter  half,  which  was  dated  a 
day  later,  and  written  in  evident  agitation,  gave 
more  important  intelligence.  It  was  to  this 
effect :  — 

"  Since  writing  the  above,  dearest  Lizzy,  something  has 
occurred  of  a  most  unexpected  and  serious  nature ;  but 
I  am  afraid  of  alarming  you,  —  be  assured  that  we  are 


FRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  121 


all  well.  What  I  have  to  say  relates  to  poor  Lydia.  An 
express  came  at  twelve  last  night,  just  as  we  were  all 
gone  to  bed,  from  Colonel  Forster,  to  inform  us  that  she 
was  gone  off  to  Scotland  with  one  of  his  officers ;  to  own 
the  truth,  with  Wickham!  Imagine  our  surprise.  To 
Kitty,  however,  it  does  not  seem  so  wholly  unexpected. 
I  am  very,  very  sorry.  So  imprudent  a  match  on  both 
sides !  But  I  am  willing  to  hope  the  best,  and  that  his 
character  has  been  misunderstood.  Thoughtless  and  in- 
discreet I  can  easily  believe  him,  but  this  step  (and  let 
us  rejoice  over  it)  marks  nothing  bad  at  heart.  His 
choice  is  disinterested  at  least,  for  he  must  know  my 
father  can  give  her  nothing.  Our  poor  mother  is  sadly 
grieved.  My  father  bears  it  better.  How  thankful  am 
I  that  we  never  let  them  know  what  has  been  said  against 
him ;  we  must  forget  it  ourselves.  They  were  off  Satur- 
day night  about  twelve,  as  is  conjectured,  but  were  not 
missed  till  yesterday  morning  at  eight.  The  express  was 
sent  off  directly.  My  dear  Lizzy,  they  must  have  passed 
within  ten  miles  of  us.  Colonel  Forster  gives  us  reason 
to  expect  him  here  soon.  Lydia  left  a  few  lines  for  his 
wife,  informing  her  of  their  intention.  I  must  conclude, 
for  I  cannot  be  long  from  my  poor  mother.  I  am  afraid 
you  will  not  be  able  to  make  it  out,  but  I  hardly  know 
what  I  have  written." 

Without  allowing  herself  time  for  consideration, 
and  scarcely  knowing  what  she  felt,  Elizabeth,  on 
finishing  this  letter,  instantly  seized  the  other, 
and  opening  it  with  the  utmost  impatience,  read 
as  follows :  it  had  been  written  a  day  later  than 
the  conclusion  of  the  first. 

"  By  this  time,  my  dearest  sister,  you  have  received  my 
hurried  letter ;  I  wish  this  may  be  more  intelligible,  but 


X22  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


thougli  not  confined  for  time,  my  head  is  so  bewildered 
that  I  cannot  answer  for  being  coherent.  Dearest  Lizzy, 
I  hardly  know  what  I  would  write,  but  I  have  bad  news 
for  you,  and  it  cannot  be  delayed.  Imprudent  as  a  mar- 
riage between  Mr.  Wickham  and  our  poor  Lydia  would 
be,  we  are  now  anxious  to  be  assured  it  has  taken  place, 
for  thera  is  but  too  much  reason  to  fear  they  are  not  gone 
to  Scotland.  Colonel  Forster  came  yesterday,  having 
left  Brighton  the  day  before,  not  many  hours  after  the 
express.  Though  Lydia's  short  letter  to  Mrs.  F.  gave 
them  to  understand  that  they  were  going  to  Gretna 
Green,  something  was  dropped  by  Denny  expressing  his 
belief  that  W.  never  intended  to  go  there,  or  to  marry 
Lydia  at  all,  which  was  repeated  to  Colonel  F.,  who,  in- 
stantly taking  the  alarm,  set  off  from  B.,  intending  to 
trace  their  route.  He  did  trace  them  easily  to  Clapham, 
but  no  farther ;  for  on  entering  that  place,  they  removed 
'nto  a  hackney-coach,  and  dismissed  the  chaise  that 
brought  them  from  Epsom.  All  that  is  known  after  this 
is  that  they  were  seen  to  continue  the  London  road.  I 
know  not  what  to  think.  After  making  every  possible 
inquiry  on  that  side  London,  Colonel  F.  came  on  into 
Hertfordshire,  anxiously  renewing  them  at  all  the  turn- 
pikes, and  at  the  inns  in  Barnet  and  Hatfield,  but  with- 
out any  success,  —  no  such  people  had  been  seen  to  pass 
through.  With  the  kindest  concern  he  came  on  to  Long- 
bourn,  and  broke  his  apprehensions  to  us  in  a  manner 
most  creditable  to  his  heart.  I  am  sincerely  grieved  for 
him  and  Mrs.  F, ;  but  no  one  can  throw  any  blame  on 
them.  Our  distress,  my  dear  Lizzy,  is  very  great.  My 
father  and  mother  believe  the  worst,  but  I  cannot  think 
so  ill  of  him.  Many  circumstances  might  make  it  more 
eligible  for  them  to  be  married  privately  in  town  than  to 
pursue  their  first  plan ;  and  even  if  he  could  form  such  a 
design  against  a  young  woman  of  Lydia's  connections, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


123 


which  is  not  likely,  can  I  suppose  her  so  lost  to  every- 
thing? Impossible!  T  grieve  to  find,  however,  that 
Colonel  F.  is  not  disposed  to  depend  upon  their  mar- 
riage ;  he  shook  his  head  when  I  expressed  my  hopes, 
and  said  he  feared  W.  was  not  a  man  to  be  trusted.  My 
poor  mother  is  really  ill,  and  keeps  her  room.  Could  she 
exert  herself,  it  would  be  better,  but  this  is  not  to  be  ex- 
pected ;  and  as  to  my  father,  I  never  in  my  life  saw  him 
so  affected.  Poor  Kitty  has  anger  for  having  concealed 
their  attachment ;  but  as  it  was  a  matter  of  confidence, 
one  cannot  wonder.  I  am  truly  glad,  dearest  Lizzy, 
that  you  have  been  spared  something  of  these  distressing 
scenes ;  but  now,  as  the  first  shock  is  over,  shall  I  own 
that  I  long  for  your  return?  I  am  not  so  selfish,  how- 
ever, as  to  press  for  it,  if  inconvenient.  Adieu !  I  take 
up  my  pen  again  to  do  what  I  have  just  told  you  I  would 
not ;  but  circumstances  are  such  that  I  cannot  help  ear- 
nestly begging  you  all  to  come  here  as  soon  as  possible. 
I  know  my  dear  uncle  and  aunt  so  well  that  I  am  not 
afraid  of  requesting  it,  though  I  have  still  something 
more  to  ask  of  the  former.  My  father  is  going  to  Lon- 
don with  Colonel  Forster  instantly,  to  try  to  discover 
her.  What  he  means  to  do,  I  am  sure  I  know  not ;  but 
his  excessive  distress  will  not  allow  him  to  pursue  any 
measure  in  the  best  and  safest  way,  and  Colonel  Forster 
is  obliged  to  be  at  Brighton  again  to-morrow  evening.  In 
such  an  exigence  my  uncle's  advice  and  assistance  would 
be  everything  in  the  world ;  he  will  immediately  compre- 
hend what  I  must  feel,  and  I  rely  upon  his  goodness." 

^^Oh!  where,  where  is  my  uncle?''  cried  Eliza- 
beth, darting  from  her  seat  as  she  finished  the 
letter,  in  eagerness  to  follow  him,  without  losing 
a  moment  of  the  time  so  precious;  but  as  she 


124 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


reached  the  door,  it  was  opened  by  a  servant,  and 
Mr.  Darcy  appeared.  Her  pale  face  and  impetu- 
ous manner  made  him  start,  and  before  he  could 
recover  himself  enough  to  speak,  she,  in  whose 
mind  every  idea  was  superseded  by  Lydia's  situa- 
tion, hastily  exclaimed:  ^^I  beg  your  pardon,  but 
I  must  leave  you.  I  must  find  Mr.  Gardiner  this 
moment  on  business  that  cannot  be  delayed;  I 
have  not  an  instant  to  lose." 

*^Good  God!  what  is  the  matter?''  cried  he, 
with  more  feeling  than  politeness;  then  recollect- 
ing himself,  ^'I  will  not  detain  you  a  minute; 
but  let  me,  or  let  the  servant,  go  after  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gardiner.  You  are  not  well  enough;  you 
cannot  go  yourself.'' 

Elizabeth  hesitated;  but  her  knees  trembled 
under  her,  and  she  felt  how  little  would  be  gained 
by  her  attempting  to  pursue  them.  Calling  back 
the  servant,  therefore,  she  commissioned  him, 
though  in  so  breathless  an  accent  as  made  her 
almost  unintelligible,  to  fetch  his  master  and 
mistress  home  instantly. 

On  his  quitting  the  room,  she  sat  down,  unable  to 
support  herself,  and  looking  so  miserably  ill  that 
it  was  impossible  for  Darcy  to  leave  her,  or  to 
refrain  from  saying,  in  a  tone  of  gentleness  and 
commiseration:  *^Let  me  call  your  maid.  Is 
there  nothing  you  could  take  to  give  you  present 
relief?  A  glass  of  wine;  shall  T  get  you  one? 
You  are  very  ill." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  125 


"No,  I  thank  you/'  she  replied,  endeavoring 
to  recover  herself.  There  is  nothing  the  matter 
with  me.  I  am  quite  well,  I  am  only  distressed 
by  some  dreadful  news  which  I  have  just  received 
from  Longbourn." 

She  burst  into  tears  as  she  alluded  to  it,  and 
for  a  few  minutes  could  not  speak  another  word. 
Darcy,  in  wretched  suspense,  could  only  say  some- 
thing indistinctly  of  his  concern,  and  observe  her 
in  compassionate  silence.  At  length  she  spoke 
again:  "I  have  just  had  a  letter  from  Jane,  with 
such  dreadful  news.  It  cannot  be  concealed  from 
any  one.  My  youngest  sister  has  left  all  her 
friends,  — has  eloped;  has  thrown  herself  into  the 
power  of  —  of  Mr.  Wickham.  They  are  gone  off 
together  from  Brighton.  You  know  him  too  well 
to  doubt  the  rest.  She  has  no  money,  no  connec- 
tions, nothing  that  can  tempt  him  to  —  She  is 
lost  forever.'' 

Darcy  was  fixed  in  astonishment.  "When  I 
consider,  ''  she  added  in  a  yet  more  agitated  voice, 
"that  I  might  have  prevented  it!  I,  who  knew 
what  he  was,  —  had  I  but  explained  some  part  of 
it  only,  some  part  of  what  I  learned,  to  my  own 
family  !  Had  his  character  been  known,  this 
could  not  have  happened.  But  it  is  all,  all  too 
late  now." 

"I  am  grieved,  indeed,"  cried  Darcy;  "grieved, 
shocked.    But  is  it  certain,  absolutely  certain?" 


126  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


^'Oh,  yes!  They  left  Brighton  together  on 
Sunday  night,  and  were  traced  almost  to  London, 
but  not  beyond;  they  are  certainly  not  gone  to 
Scotland/' 

^^And  what  has  been  done,  what  has  been  at- 
tempted, to  recover  her?'' 

"  My  father  has  gone  to  London,  and  Jane  has 
written  to  beg  my  uncle's  immediate  assistance, 
and  we  shall  be  off,  I  hope,  in  half  an  hour. 
But  nothing  can  be  done ;  I  know  very  well  that 
nothing  can  be  done.  How  is  such  a  man  to  be 
worked  on?  How  are  they  even  to  be  discovered? 
I  have  not  the  smallest  hope.  It  is  every  way 
horrible!  " 

Darcy  shook  his  head  in  silent  acquiescence. 
When  my  eyes  were  open  to  his  real  character. 
Oh!  had  I  known  what  I  ought,  what  I  dared  to 
do !    But  I  knew  not,  —  I  was  afraid  of  doing  too 
much.    Wretched,  wretched  mistake !  " 

Darcy  made  no  answer.  He  seemed  scarcely  to 
hear  her,  and  was  walking  up  and  down  the  room 
in  earnest  meditation;  his  brow  contracted,  his 
air  gloomy.  Elizabeth  soon  observed,  and  in- 
stantly understood  it.  Her  power  was  sinking; 
everything  must  sink  under  such  a  proof  of  family 
weakness,  such  an  assurance  of  the  deepest  dis- 
grace. She  could  neither  wonder  nor  condemn; 
but  the  belief  of  his  self-conquest  brought  nothing 
consolatory  to  her  bosom,  afforded  no  palliation 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


127 


of  her  distress.  It  was,  on  the  contrary,  exactly 
calculated  to  make  her  understand  her  own  wishes ; 
and  never  had  she  so  honestly  felt  that  she  could 
have  loved  him,  as  now,  when  all  love  must  he 
vain. 

But  self,  though  it  would  intrude,  could  not 
engross  her.  Lydia  —  the  humiliation,  the  mis- 
ery she  was  hringing  on  them  all  —  soon  swal- 
lowed up  every  private  care;  and  covering  her 
face  with  her  handkerchief,  Elizabeth  was  soon 
lost  to  everything  else;  and  after  a  pause  of  sev- 
eral minutes,  was  only  recalled  to  a  sense  of  her 
situation  by  the  voice  of  her  companion,  who  in 
a  manner  which,  though  it  spoke  compassion, 
spoke  likewise  restraint,  said:  ^^I  am  afraid  you 
have  been  long  desiring  my  absence,  nor  have  I 
anything  to  plead  in  excuse  of  my  stay,  but  real 
though  unavailing  concern.  Would  to  Heaven 
that  anything  could  be  either  said  or  done  on  my 
part  that  might  offer  consolation  to  such  distress. 
But  I  will  not  torment  you  with  vain  wishes, 
which  may  seem  purposely  to  ask  for  your  thanks. 
This  unfortunate  affair  will,  I  fear,  prevent  my 
sister's  having  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  at  Pem- 
berley  to-day.'' 

"Oh,  yes.  Be  so  kind  as  to  apologize  for  us  to 
Miss  Darcy.  Say  that  urgent  business  calls  us 
home  immediately.  Conceal  the  unhappy  truth  as 
long  as  it  is  possible.    I  know  it  cannot  be  long." 


128 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


He  readily  assured  her  of  his  secrecy,  again 
expressed  his  sorrow  for  her  distress,  wished  it  a 
happier  conclusion  than  there  was  at  present  rea- 
son to  hope,  and  leaving  his  compliments  for  her 
relations,  with  only  one  serious  parting  look,  went 
away. 

As  he  quitted  the  room,  Elizaheth  felt  how  im- 
prohahle  it  was  that  they  should  ever  see  each 
other  again  on  such  terms  of  cordiality  as  had 
marked  their  several  meetings  in  Derhyshire;  and 
as  she  threw  a  retrospective  glance  over  the  whole 
of  their  acquaintance,  so  full  of  contradictions  and 
varieties,  sighed  at  the  perverseness  of  those  feel- 
ings which  would  now  have  promoted  its  contin- 
uance, and  would  formerly  have  rejoiced  in  its 
termination. 

If  gratitude  and  esteem  are  good  foundations  of 
affection,  Elizabeth's  change  of  sentiment  will  be 
neither  improbable  nor  faulty.  But  if  otherwise, 
if  the  regard  springing  from  such  sources  is  unrea- 
sonable or  unnatural,  in  comparison  of  what  is  so 
often  described  as  arising  on  a  first  interview  with 
its  object,  and  even  before  two  words  have  been 
exchanged,  nothing  can  be  said  in  her  defence, 
except  that  she  had  given  somewhat  of  a  trial  to 
the  latter  method,  in  her  partiality  for  Wickham, 
and  that  its  ill  success  might,  perhaps,  authorize 
her  to  seek  the  other  less  interesting  mode  of 
attachment.    Be  that  as  it  may,  she  saw  him  go 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  129 


with  regret;  and  in  this  early  example  of  what 
Lydia's  infamy  must  produce,  found  additional 
anguish  as  she  reflected  on  that  wretched  busiifess. 
Never  since  reading  Jane's  second  letter  had  she 
entertained  a  hope  of  Wickham's  meaning  to 
marry  her.  No  one  hut  Jane,  she  thought,  could 
flatter  herself  with  such  an  expectation.  Surprise 
was  the  least  of  all  her  feelings  on  this  develop- 
ment. While  the  contents  of  the  first  letter  re- 
mained on  her  mind,  she  was  all  surprise,  all 
astonishment,  that  Wickham  should  marry  a  girl 
whom  it  was  impossible  he  could  marry  for  money; 
and  how  Lydia  could  ever  have  attached  him  had 
appeared  incomprehensible.  But  now  it  was  all 
too  natural.  For  such  an  attachment  as  this,  she 
might  have  sufficient  charms;  and  though  she  did 
not  suppose  Lydia  to  be  deliberately  engaging  in 
an  elopement,  without  the  intention  of  marriage, 
she  had  no  difficulty  in  believing  that  neither  her 
virtue  nor  her  understanding  would  preserve  her 
from  falling  an  easy  prey. 

She  had  never  perceived,  while  the  regiment 
was  in  Hertfordshire,  that  Lydia  had  any  par- 
tiality for  him;  but  she  was  convinced  that  Lydia 
had  wanted  only  encouragement  to  attach  herself 
to  anybody.  Sometimes  one  officer,  sometimes  an- 
other, had  been  her  favorite,  as  their  attentions 
raised  them  in  her  opinion.  Her  affections  had 
been  continually  fluctuating,  but  never  without  an 

VOL.  II.  —9 


130  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


object.  The  mischief  of  neglect  and  mistaken  in- 
dulgence towards  such  a  girl,  —  oh,  how  acutely 
did  she  now  feel  it! 

She  was  wild  to  be  at  home,  — to  hear,  to  see,  to 
be  upon  the  spot  to  share  with  Jane  in  the  cares 
that  must  now  fall  wholly  upon  her,  in  a  family  so 
deranged;  a  father  absent,  a  mother  incapable  of 
exertion,  and  requiring  constant  attendance;  and 
though  almost  persuaded  that  nothing  could  be 
done  for  Lydia,  her  uncle's  interference  seemed  of 
the  utmost  importance,  and  till  he  entered  the 
room  the  misery  of  her  impatience  was  severe. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gardiner  had  hurried  back  in  alarm, 
supposing,  by  the  servant's  account,  that  their 
niece  was  taken  suddenly  ill;  but  satisfying  them 
instantly  on  that  head,  she  eagerly  communicated 
the  cause  of  their  summons,  reading  the  two  letters 
aloud,  and  dwelling  on  the  postscript  of  the  last 
with  trembling  energy,  though  Lydia  fead  never 
been  a  favorite  with  them.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gardi- 
ner could  not  but  be  deeply  afflicted.  Not  Lydia 
only,  but  all  were  concerned  in  it;  and  after  the 
first  exclamations  of  surprise  and  horror,  Mr. 
Gardiner  readily  promised  every  assistance  in 
his  power.  Elizabeth,  though  expecting  no  less, 
thanked  him  with  tears  of  gratitude;  and  all  three 
being  actuated  by  one  spirit,  everything  relating 
to  their  journey  was  speedily  settled.  They  were 
to  be  off  as  soon  as  possible.    '^But  what  is  to  be 


PRIDE  AND  rREJUDICE. 


131 


done  about  Pemberley? cried  Mrs.  Gardiner. 

John  told  us  Mr.  Darcy  was  here  when  you  sent 
for  us;  was  it  so?  " 

Yes;  and  I  told  him  we  should  not  be  able  to 
keep  our  engagement.    That  is  all  settled. 

^'What  is  all  settled?"  repeated  the  other,  as 
she  ran  into  her  room  to  prepare.       And  are  they 
upon  such  terms  as  for  her  to  disclose  the  real 
"truth?    Oh  that  I  knew  how  it  was! 

But  wishes  were  vain,  or  at  best  could  serve 
only  to  amuse  her  in  the  hurry  and  confusion  of 
the  following  hour.  Had  Elizabeth  been  at  leisure 
to  be  idle,  she  would  have  remained  certain  that 
all  employment  was  impossible  to  one  so  wretched 
as  herself;  but  she  had  her  share  of  business  as 
well  as  her  aunt,  and  amongst  the  rest  there  were 
notes  to  be  written  to  all  their  friends  at  Lambton 
with  false  excuses  for  their  sudden  departure.  An 
hour,  however,  saw  the  whole  completed;  and  Mr. 
Gardiner  meanwhile  having  settled  his  account 
at  the  inn, nothing  remained  to  be  done  but  to  go; 
and  Elizabeth,  after  all  the  misery  of  the  morning, 
found  herself,  in  a  shorter  space  of  time  than  she 
could  have  supposed,  seated  in  the  carriage,  and 
on  the  road  to  Longbourn. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


HAVE  been  thinking  it  over  again,  Elizabeth," 
said  her  uncle,  as  they  drove  from  the  town;  ^^and 
really,  upon  serious  consideration,  I  am  much  more 
inclined  than  I  was  to  judge  as  your  eldest  sister 
does  of  the  matter.  It  appears  to  me  so  very  un- 
likely that  any  young  man  should  form  such  a 
design  against  a  girl  who  is  by  no  means  unpro- 
tected or  friendless,  and  who  was  actually  staying 
in  his  Colonel's  family,  that  I  am  strongly  in- 
clined to  hope  the  best.  Could  he  expect  that  her 
friends  would  not  step  forward?  Could  he  expect 
to  be  noticed  again  by  the  regiment,  after  such  an 
affront  to  Colonel  Forster?  His  temptation  is  not 
adequate  to  the  risk.'' 

^^Do  you  really  think  so?"  cried  Elizabeth, 
brightening  up  for  a  moment. 

^'Upon  my  word,"  said  Mrs.  Gardiner, 
begin  to  be  of  your  uncle's  opinion.  It  is  really 
too  great  a  violation  of  decency,  honor,  and  in- 
terest, for  him  to  be  guilty  of  it.  I  cannot  think 
so  very  ill  of  Wickham.  Can  you  yourself,  Lizzy, 
so  wholly  give  him  up  as  to  believe  him  capable 
of  it?  '^ 


PRIDE  AND  TREJUDICE.  133 


^^Not  perhaps  of  neglecting  his  own  interest; 
but  of  every  other  neglect  I  can  believe  him  ca- 
pable. If,  indeed,  it  should  be  so!  But  I  dare 
not  hope  it.  Why  should  they  not  go  on  to  Scot- 
land, if  that  had  been  the  case?  " 

''In  the  first  place,"  replied  Mr.  Gardiner, 
''there  is  no  absolute  proof  that  they  are  not  gone 
to  Scotland.'^ 

"  Oh,  but  their  removing  from  the  chaise  into  a 
hackney  coach  is  such  a  presumption!  And,  be- 
sides, no  traces  of  them  were  to  be  found  on  the 
Barnet  road.'' 

"Well,  then,  supposing  them  to  be  in  Lon- 
don, they  may  be  there,  though  for  the  purpose  of 
concealment,  for  no  more  exceptionable  purpose. 
It  is  not  likely  that  money  should  be  very  abun- 
dant on  either  side ;  and  it  might  strike  them  that 
they  could  be  more  economically  though  less  expedi- 
tiously married  in  London  than  in  Scotland.'' 

"But  why  all  this  secrecy?  Why  any  fear  of 
detection?  Why  must  their  marriage  be  private? 
Oh,  no,  no,  this  is  not  likely.  His  most  particular 
friend,  you  see  by  Jane's  account,  was  persuaded 
of  his  never  intending  to  marry  her.  Wickham 
will  never  marry  a  woman  without  some  money. 
He  cannot  afford  it.  And  what  claims  has  Lydia, 
what  attractions  has  she  beyond  youth,  health,  and 
good-humor,  that  could  make  him  for  her  sake 
forego  every  chance  of  benefiting  himself  by  marry- 


134  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


ing  well !  As  to  what  restraint  the  apprehensions 
of  disgrace  in  the  corps  might  throw  on  a  dishonor- 
able elopement  with  her,  I  am  not  able  to  judge ; 
for  I  know  nothing  of  the  effects  that  such  a  step 
might  produce.  But  as  to  your  other  objection,  I 
am  afraid  it  will  hardly  hold  good.  Lydia  has  no 
brothers  to  step  forward;  and  he  might  imagine, 
from  my  father's  behavior,  from  his  indolence  and 
the  little  attention  he  has  ever  seemed  to  give  to 
what  was  going  forward  in  his  family,  that  he 
would  do  as  little  and  think  as  Lttle  about  it,  as 
any  father  could  do,  in  such  a  matter." 

^^But  can  you  think  that  Lydia  is  so  lost  to 
everything  but  love  of  him,  as  to  consent  to  live 
with  him  on  any  other  terms  than  marriage?" 

^^It  does  seem,  and  it  is  most  shocking,  in- 
deed," replied  Elizabeth,  with  tears  in  her  eyes, 
'Hhat  a  sister's  sense  of  decency  and  virtue  in 
such  a  point  should  admit  of  doubt.  But,  really, 
I  know  not  what  to  say.  Perhaps  I  am  not  doing 
her  justice.  But  she  is  very  young :  she  has  never 
been  taught  to  think  on  serious  subjects;  and  for 
the  last  half  year,  nay,  for  a  twelvemonth,  she  has 
been  given  up  to  nothing  but  amusement  and 
vanity.  She  has  been  allowed  to  dispose  of  her 
time  in  the  most  idle  and  frivolous  manner,  and  to 
adopt  any  opinions  that  came  in  her  way.  Since 

the   shire  were  first  quartered  in  Meryton, 

nothing  but  love,  flirtation,  and  officers  has  been 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


135 


in  her  head.  She  has  been  doing  everything  in  her 
power,  by  thinking  and  talking  on  the  subject,  to 
give  greater  —  what  shall  I  call  it?  —  susceptibility 
to  her  feelings,  which  are  naturally  lively  enough ; 
and  we  all  know  that  Wickham  has  every  charm 
of  person  and  address  that  can  captivate  a  woman." 

^^But  you  see  that  Jane,"  said  her  aunt,  '^does 
not  think  so  ill  of  Wickham  as  to  believe  him 
capable  of  the  attempt." 

Of  whom  does  Jane  ever  think  ill?  And  who 
is  there,  whatever  might  be  their  former  conduct, 
that  she  would  believe  capable  of  such  an  attempt, 
till  it  were  proved  against  them?  But  Jane  knows, 
as  well  as  I  do,  what  Wickham  really  is.  We 
both  know  that  he  has  been  profligate  in  every 
sense  of  the  word;  that  he  has  neither  integrity 
nor  honor ;  that  he  is  as  false  and  deceitful  as  he 
is  insinuating." 

And  do  you  really  know  all  this?  "  cried  Mrs. 
Gardiner,  whose  curiosity  as  to  the  mode  of  her 
intelligence  was  all  alive. 

^^I  do,  indeed,"  replied  Elizabeth,  coloring. 
^^I  tolci  you  the  other  day  of  his  infamous  be- 
havior to  Mr.  Darcy;  and  you  yourself,  when  last 
at  Longbourn,  heard  in  what  manner  he  spoke  of 
the  man  who  had  behaved  with  such  forbearance 
and  liberality  towards  him.  And  there  are  other 
circumstances  which  I  am  not  at  liberty  —  which 
it  is  not  worth  while  to  relate;  but  his  lies  about 


136 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


the  whole  Pemberley  family  are  endless.  From 
what  he  said  of  Miss  Darcy,  I  was  thoroughly  pre- 
pared to  see  a  proud,  reserved,  disagreeable  girl. 
Yet  he  knew  to  the  contrary  himself.  He  must 
know  that  she  was  as  amiable  and  unpretending  as 
we  have  found  her." 

^'But  does  Lydia  know  nothing  of  this;  can  she 
be  ignorant  of  what  you  and  Jane  seem  so  well  to 
understand? 

Oh,  yes!  that  — that  is  the  worst  of  all.  Till 
I  was  in  Kent,  and  saw  so  much  both  of  Mr.  Darcy 
and  his  relation  Colonel  Fitzwilliam,  I  was  igno- 
rant of  the  truth  myself.    And  when  I  returned 

home  the  shire  was  to  leave  Meryton  in  a 

week  or  fortnight's  time.  As  that  was  the  case, 
neither  Jane,  to  whom  I  related  the  whole,  nor  I 
thought  it  necessary  to  make  our  knowledge  pub- 
lic; for  of  what  use  could  it  apparently  be  to  any 
one,  that  the  good  opinion  which  all  the  neighbor- 
hood had  of  him  should  then  be  overthrown?  And 
even  when  it  was  settled  that  Lydia  should  go 
with  Mrs.  Forster,  the  necessity  of  opening  her 
eyes  to  his  character  never  occurred  to  me.  That 
she  could  be  in  any  danger  from  the  deception 
never  entered  my  head.  That  such  a  consequence 
as  this  should  ensue,  you  may  easily  believe  was 
far  enough  from  my  thoughts." 

When  they  all  removed  to  Brighton,  therefore, 
you  had  no  reason,  I  suppose,  to  believe  them  fond 
of  each  other? 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


137 


*^Not  the  slightest.  I  can  remember  no  symp- 
tom of  affection  on  either  side ;  and  had  anything 
of  the  kind  been  perceptible,  you  must  be  aware 
that  ours  is  not  a  family  on  which  it  could  be 
thrown  away.  When  first  he  entered  the  corps, 
she  was  ready  enough  to  admire  him;  but  so  we  all 
were.  Every  girl  in  or  near  Meryton  was  out  of 
her  senses  about  him  for  the  first  two  months:  but 
he  never  distinguished  her  by  any  particular  atten- 
tion ;  and  consequently,  after  a  moderate  period  of 
extravagant  and  wild  admiration,  her  fancy  for 
him  gave  vvay,  and  others  of  the  regiment,  who 
treated  her  with  more  distinction,  again  became 
her  favorites." 

It  may  be  easily  believed  that  however  little  of 
novelty  could  be  added  to  their  fears,  hopes,  and 
conjectures  on  this  interesting  subject  by  its  re- 
peated discussion,  no  other  could  detain  them  from 
it  long,  during  the  whole  of  the  journey.  From 
Elizabeth's  thoughts  it  was  never  absent.  Fixed 
there  by  the  keenest  of  all  anguish,  self-reproach, 
she  could  find  no  interval  of  ease  or  forgetfulness. 

They  travelled  as  expeditiously  as  possible;  and 
sleeping  one  night  on  the  road,  reached  Longbourn 
by  dinner-time  the  next  day.  It  was  a  comfort  to 
Elizabeth  to  consider  that  Jane  could  not  have 
been  wearied  by  long  expectations. 

The  little  Gardiners,  attracted  by  the  sight  of  a 
chaise,  were  standing  on  the  steps  of  the  house,  as 


138 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


they  entered  the  paddock;  and  when  the  carriage 
drove  up  to  the  door,  the  joyful  surprise  that 
lighted  up  their  faces  and  displayed  itself  over 
their  whole  bodies,  in  a  variety  of  capers  and 
frisks,  was  the  first  pleasing  earnest  of  their 
welcome. 

Elizabeth  jumped  out;  and  after  giving  each  of 
them  a  hasty  kiss,  hurried  into  the  vestibule, 
where  Jane,  who  came  running  downstairs  from 
her  mother's  apartment,  immediately  met  her. 

Elizabeth,  as  she  affectionately  embraced  her, 
whilst  tears  filled  the  eyes  of  both,  lost  not  a 
moment  in  asking  whether  anything  had  been 
heard  of  the  fugitives. 

^'Not  yet,''  replied  Jane.  ^^But  now  that  my 
dear  uncle  is  come,  I  hope  everything  will  be 
well." 

Is  my  father  in  town?  " 

^^Yes;  he  went  on  Tuesday,  as  I  wrote  you 
word." 

And  have  you  heard  from  him  often?  " 

We  have  heard  onl}'^  once.  He  wrote  me  a  few 
lines  on  Wednesday,  to  say  that  he  had  arrived  in 
safety,  and  to  give  me  his  directions,  which  I  par- 
ticularly begged  him  to  do.  He  merely  added 
that  he  should  not  write  again  till  he  had  some- 
thing of  importance  to  mention." 

^'  And  my  mother,  —  how  is  she?  How  are  you 
all?'' 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


139 


''My  mother  is  tolerably  well,  I  trust,  though 
her  spirits  are  greatly  shaken.  She  is  upstairs,  and 
will  have  great  satisfaction  in  seeing  you  all.  She 
does  not  yet  leave  her  dressing-room.  Mary  and 
Kitty,  thank  Heaven!  are  quite  well.'' 

''But  you  —  how  are  you?"  cried  Elizabeth. 
"You  look  pale.  How  much  you  must  have  gone 
through!  " 

Her  sister,  however,  assured  her  of  her  being 
perfectly  well;  and  their  conversation,  which  had 
been  passing  while  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gardiner  were 
engaged  with  their  children,  was  now  put  an  end 
to  by  the  approach  of  the  whole  party.  Jane  ran 
to  her  uncle  and  aunt,  and  welcomed  and  thanked 
them  both,  with  alternate  smiles  and  tears. 

When  they  were  all  in  the  drawing-room,  the 
questions  which  Elizabeth  had  already  asked  were 
of  course  repeated  by  the  others,  and  they  soon 
found  that  Jane  had  no  intelligence  to  give.  The 
sanguine  hope  of  good,  however,  which  the  benevo- 
lence of  her  heart  suggested,  had  not  yet  deserted 
her;  she  still  expected  that  it  would  all  end  well, 
and  that  every  morning  would  bring  some  letter, 
either  from  Lydia  or  her  father,  to  explain  their 
proceedings,  and  perhaps  announce  the  marriage. 

Mrs.  Bennet,  to  whose  apartment  they  all  re- 
paired, after  a  few  minutes'  conversation  together, 
received  them  exactly  as  might  be  expected,  — with 
tears  and  lamentations  of  regret,  invectives  against 


140  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


the  villanous  conduct  of  Wickham,  and  complaints 
of  her  own  sufferings  and  ill-usage;  blaming 
everybody  but  the  person  to  whose  ill-judging 
indulgence  the  errors  of  her  daughter  must  be 
principally  owing. 

^^If  I  had  been  able,"  said  she,  ^'to  carry  my 
point  in  going  to  Brighton  with  all  my  family, 
this  would  not  have  happened ;  but  poor  dear  Lydia 
had  nobody  to  take  care  of  her.  Why  did  the 
\Forsters  ever  let  her  go  out  of  their  sight?  I  am 
sure  there  was  some  great  neglect  or  other  on  their 
side,  for  she  is  not  the  kind  of  girl  to  do  such  a 
thing,  if  she  had  been  well  looked  after.  I  always 
thought  they  were  very  unfit  to  have  the  charge  of 
her;  but  I  was  overruled,  as  I  always  am.  Poor, 
dear  child!  And  now  here 's  Mr.  Bennet  gone 
away,  and  I  know  he  will  fight  Wickham,  wher- 
ever he  meets  him,  and  then  he  will  be  killed,  and 
what  is  to  become  of  us  all?  The  Collinses  will 
turn  us  out,  before  he  is  cold  in  his  grave;  and  if 
3^ou  are  not  kind  to  us,  brother,  I  do  not  know 
what  we  shall  do.'' 

They  all  exclaimed  against  such  terrific  ideas; 
and  Mr.  Gardiner,  after  general  assurances  of  his 
affection  for  her  and  all  her  family,  told  her  that 
he  meant  to  be  in  London  the  very  next  day,  and 
would  assist  Mr.  Bennet  in  every  endeavor  for 
recovering  Lydia. 

'^Do  not  give  way  to  useless  alarm,"  added  he; 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


141 


''though  it  is  right  to  be  prepared  for  the  worst, 
there  is  no  occasion  to  look  on  it  as  certain.  It  is 
not  quite  a  week  since  they  left  Brighton.  In  a 
few  days  more  we  may  gain  some  news  of  them; 
and  till  we  know  that  they  are  not  married,  and 
have  no  design  of  marrying,  do  not  let  us  give  the 
matter  over  as  lost.  As  soon  as  I  get  to  town,  I 
shall  go  to  my  brother,  and  make  him  come  home 
with  me  to  Gracechurch  Street,  and  then  we  may 
consult  together  as  to  what  is  to  be  done.'' 

*'0h,  my  dear  brother,"  replied  Mrs.  Bennet, 
that  is  exactly  what  I  could  most  wish  for.  And 
now  do,  when  you  get  to  town,  find  them  out, 
wherever  they  may  be ;  and  if  they  are  not  married 
already,  make  them  marry.  And  as  for  wedding- 
clothes,  do  not  let  them  wait  for  that,  but  tell 
Lydia  she  shall  have  as  much  money  as  she  chooses 
to  buy  them,  after  they  are  married.  And,  above 
all  things,  keep  Mr.  Bennet  from  fighting.  Tell 
him  what  a  dreadful  state  I  am  in,  —  that  I  am 
frightened  out  of  my  wits,  and  have  such  trem- 
blings, such  flutterings,  all  over  me,  such  spasms 
in  my  side  and  pains  in  my  head,  and  such  beat- 
ings at  heart,  that  I  can  get  no  rest  by  night  nor 
by  day.  And  tell  my  dear  Lydia  not  to  give  any 
directions  about  her  clothes  till  she  has  seen  me, 
for  she  does  not  know  which  are  the  best  ware- 
houses. Oh,  brother,  how  kind  you  are !  I  know 
you  will  contrive  it  all." 


142 


PEIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


But  Mr.  Gardiner,  though  he  assured  her  again 
of  his  earnest  endeavors  in  the  cause,  could  not 
avoid  recommending  moderation  to  her,  as  well  in 
her  hopes  as  her  fears ;  and  after  talking  with  her 
in  this  manner  till  dinner  was  on  table,  they  left 
her  to  vent  all  her  feelings  on  the  housekeeper, 
who  attended  in  the  absence  of  her  daughters. 

Though  her  brother  and  sister  were  persuaded 
that  there  was  no  real  occasion  for  such  a  seclusion 
from  the  family,  they  did  not  attempt  to  oppose 
it,  for  they  knew  that  she  had  not  prudence  enough 
to  hold  her  tongue  before  the  servants,  while  they 
waited  at  table,  and  judged  it  better  that  one  only 
of  the  household,  and  the  one  whom  they  could 
most  trust,  should  comprehend  all  her  fears  and 
solicitude  on  the  subject. 

In  the  dining-room  they  were  soon  joined  by 
Mary  and  Kitty,  who  had  been  too  busily  engaged 
in  their  separate  apartments  to  make  their  appear- 
ance before.  One  came  from  her  books,  and  the 
other  from  her  toilette.  The  faces  of  both,  however, 
were  tolerably  calm;  and  no  change  was  visible  in 
either,  except  that  the  loss  of  her  favorite  sister, 
or  the  anger  which  she  had  herself  incurred  in  the 
business,  had  given  something  more  of  fretfulness 
than  usual  to  the  accents  of  Kitty.  As  for  Mary, 
she  was  mistress  enough  of  herself  to  whisper  to 
Elizabeth,  with  a  countenance  of  grave  reflection, 
soon  after  they  were  seated  at  table,  — 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


143 


"This  is  a  most  unfortunate  affair,  and  will 
probably  be  much  talked  of;  but  we  must  stem  the 
tide  of  malice,  and  pour  into  the  wounded  bosoms 
of  each  other  the  balm  of  sisterly  consolation/' 

Then  perceiving  in  Elizabeth  no  inclination  of 
replying,  she  added:  "Unhappy  as  the  event  must 
be  for  Lydia,  we  may  draw  from  it  this  useful  les- 
son, —  that  loss  of  virtue  in  a  female  is  irretriev- 
able, that  one  false  step  involves  her  in  endless 
ruin,  that  her  reputation  is  no  less  brittle  than  it 
is  beautiful,  and  that  she  cannot  be  too  much 
guarded  in  her  behavior  towards  the  undeserving 
of  the  other  sex/' 

Elizabeth  lifted  up  her  eyes  in  amazement,  but 
was  too  much  oppressed  to  make  any  reply.  Mary, 
however,  continued  to  console  herself  with  such 
kind  of  moral  extractions  from  the  evil  before 
them. 

In  the  afternoon  the  two  elder  Miss  Bennets 
were  able  to  be  for  half  an  hour  by  themselves; 
and  Elizabeth  instantly  availed  herself  of  the  op- 
portunity of  making  any  inquiries  which  Jane  was 
equally  eager  to  satisfy.  After  joining  in  gen- 
eral lamentations  over  the  dreadful  sequel  of  this 
event,  which  Elizabeth  considered  as  all  but  cer- 
tain, and  Miss  Bennet  could  not  assert  to  be 
wholly  impossible,  the  former  continued  the  sub- 
ject, by  saying,  "But  tell  me  all  and  everything 
about  it  which  I  have  not  already  heard.  Give 


144  PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


me  further  particulars.  What  did  Colonel  Fors- 
ter  say?  Had  they  no  apprehension  of  anything 
before  the  elopement  took  place?  They  must  have 
seen  them  together  forever.'' 

Colonel  Forster  did  own  that  he  had  often  sus- 
pected some  partiality,  especially  on  Lydia's  side, 
but  nothing  to  give  him  any  alarm.  I  am  so 
grieved  for  him.  His  behavior  was  attentive  and 
kind  to  the  utmost.  He  was  coming  to  us,  in 
order  to  assure  us  of  his  concern,  before  he  had 
any  idea  of  their  not  being  gone  to  Scotland;  when 
that  apprehension  first  got  abroad,  it  hastened  his 
journey.'' 

"And  was  Denny  convinced  that  Wickham 
would  not  marry?  Did  he  know  of  their  intend- 
ing to  go  off?  Had  Colonel  Forster  seen  Denny 
himself?  " 

"Yes;  but  when  questioned  by  him  Denny  de- 
nied knowing  anything  of  their  plan,  and  would 
not  give  his  real  opinion  about  it.  He  did  not 
repeat  his  persuasion  of  their  not  marrying,  and 
from  that  I  am  inclined  to  hope  he  might  have 
been  misunderstood  before." 

"And  till  Colonel  Forster  came  himself,  not 
one  of  you  entertained  a  doubt,  I  suppose,  of  their 
being  really  married?  " 

"How  was  it  possible  that  such  an  idea  should 
enter  our  brains?  I  felt  a  little  uneasy,  a  little 
fearful  of  my  sister's  happiness  with  him  in  mar- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  145 


riage,  because  I  knew  that  his  conduct  had  not 
been  always  quite  right.  My  father  and  mother 
knew  nothing  of  that,  they  only  felt  how  im- 
prudent a  match  it  must  be.  Kitty  then  owned, 
with  a  very  natural  triumph  on  knowing  more 
than  the  rest  of  us,  that  in  Lydia's  last  letter  she 
had  prepared  her  for  such  a  step.  She  had  known, 
it  seems,  of  their  being  in  love  with  each  other 
many  weeks." 

"But  not  before  they  went  to  Brighton?  " 

"No,  I  believe  not." 

"And  did  Colonel  Forster  appear  to  think  ill 
of  Wickham  himself?  Does  he  know  his  real 
character?  " 

"I  must  confess  that  he  did  not  speak  so  well 
of  Wickham  as  he  formerly  did.  He  believed  him 
to  be  imprudent  and  extravagant;  and  since  this 
sad  affair  has  taken  place,  it  is  said  that  he  left 
Meryton  greatly  in  debt :  but  I  hope  this  may  be 
false." 

"Oh,  Jane,  had  we  been  less  secret,  had  we 
told  what  we  knew  of  him,  this  could  not  have 
happened!  " 

"Perhaps  it  would  have  been  better,"  replied 
her  sister. 

"But  to  expose  the  former  faults  of  any  person 
without  knowing  what  their  present  feelings  were, 
seemed  unjustifiable." 

"We  acted  with  the  best  intentions.'' 

VOL.  II.— -10 


146 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Could  Colonel  Forster  repeat  the  particulars 
of  Lydia's  note  to  his  wife?'' 

He  brought  it  with  him  for  us  to  see." 
Jane  then  took  it  from  her  pocket-book,  and 
gave  it  to  Elizabeth.    These  were  the  contents : 

My  dear  Harriet,  —  You  will  laugh  when  you 
know  where  I  am  gcone,  and  I  cannot  help  laughing 
myself  at  your  surprise  to-morrow  morning,  as  soon  as  I 
am  missed.  I  am  going  to  Gretna  Green;  and  if  you 
cannot  guess  with  who,  I  shall  think  you  a  simpleton,  for 
there  is  but  one  man  in  the  world  I  love,  and  he  is  an 
angel.  I  should  never  be  happy  without  him,  so  think  it 
no  harm  to  be  off.  You  need  not  send  them  word  at 
Longbourn  of  my  going,  if  you  do  not  like  it,  for  it  will 
make  the  surprise  the  greater  when  I  write  to  them,  and 
sign  my  name  Lydia  Wickham.  What  a  good  joke  it 
will  be !  I  can  hardly  write  for  laughing.  Pray  make 
my  excuses  to  Pratt  for  not  keeping  my  engagement,  and 
dancing  with  him  to-night.  Tell  him  1  hope  he  will 
excuse  me  when  he  knows  all,  and  tell  him  I  will  dance 
with  him  at  the  next  ball  we  meet  with  great  pleasure. 
I  shall  send  for  my  clothes  when  I  get  to  Longbourn ; 
but  I  wish  you  would  tell  Sally  to  mend  a  great  slit  in 
my  worked  muslin  gown  before  they  are  packed  up. 
Good-by.  Give  my  love  to  Colonel  Forster.  I  hope 
you  will  drink  to  our  good  journey. 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

Lydia  Bennet. 

*^0h,  thoughtless,  thoughtless  Lydia!  ''  cried 
Elizabeth,  when  she  had  finished  it.  What  a 
letter  is  this,  to  be  written  at  such  a  moment! 
But  at  least  it  shows  that  she  was  serious  in  the 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


147 


object  of  her  journey.  Wliatever  he  might  after- 
wards persuade  her  to,  it  was  not  on  her  side  a 
scheme  of  infamy.  My  poor  father !  how  he  must 
have  felt  it!" 

I  never  saw  any  one  so  shocked.  He  could 
not  speak  a  word  for  full  ten  minutes.  My  mother 
was  taken  ill  immediately,  and  the  whole  house  in 
such  confusion!  " 

^^Oh,  Jane,''  cried  Elizabeth,  'Svas  there,  a 
servant  belonging  to  it  who  did  not  know  the 
whole  story  before  the  end  of  the  day?" 

^^I  do  not  know;  I  hope  there  was:  but  to  be 
guarded  at  such  a  time  is  very  difficult.  My 
mother  was  in  hysterics;  and  though  I  endeav- 
ored to  give  her  every  assistance  in  my  power,  I 
am  afraid  I  did  not  do  so  much  as  I  might  have 
done;  but  the  horror  of  what  might  possibly 
happen  almost  took  from  me  my  faculties." 

Your  attendance  upon  her  has  been  too  much 
for  you.  You  do  not  look  well.  Oh  that  I  had 
been  with  you!  You  have  had  ever}'-  care  and 
anxiety  upon  yourself  alone." 

''Mary  and  Kitty  have  been  very  kind,  and  would 
have  shared  in  every  fatigue,  I  am  sure,  but  I  did 
not  think  it  right  for  either  of  them.  Kitty  is 
slight  and  delicate,  and  Mary  studies  so  much 
that  her  hours  of  repose  should  not  be  broken  in 
on.  My  aunt  Philips  came  to  Longbourn  on 
Tuesday,  after  my  father  went  away,  and  was  so 


148  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


good  as  to  stay  till  Thursday  with  me.  She  was 
of  great  use  and  comfort  to  us  all,  and  Lady  Lucas 
has  been  very  kind:  she  walked  here  on  Wednes- 
day morning  to  condole  with  us,  and  offered  her 
services  or  any  of  her  daughters,  if  they  could  be 
of  use  to  us.'' 

'^She  had  better  have  stayed  at  home,"  cried 
Elizabeth;  perhaps  she  meant  well,  but  under 
sijch  a  misfortune  as  this,  one  cannot  see  too  little 
of  one's  neighbors.  Assistance  is  impossible;  con- 
dolence, insufferable.  Let  them  triumph  over  us 
at  a  distance,  and  be  satisfied." 

She  then  proceeded  to  inquire  into  the  measures 
which  her  father  had  intended  to  pursue,  while  in 
town,  for  the  recovery  of  his  daughter. 

'^He  meant,  I  believe,"  replied  Jane,  ^'to  go 
to  Epsom,  the  place  where  they  last  changed 
horses,  see  the  postilions,  and  try  if  anything 
could  be  made  out  from  them.  His  principal 
object  must  be  to  discover  the  number  of  the  hack- 
ney coach  which  took  them  from  Clapham.  It 
had  come  with  a  fare  from  London;  and  as  he 
thought  the  circumstance  of  a  gentleman  and  ladj^'s 
removing  from  one  carriage"  into  another  might  be 
remarked,  he  meant  to  make  inquiries  at  Clapham. 
If  he  could  anyhow  discover  at  what  house  the 
coachman  had  before  set  down  his  fare,  he  deter- 
mined to  make  inquiries  there,  and  hoped  it  might 
not  be  impossible  to  find  out  the  stand  and  num- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


149 


ber  of  the  coach.  I  do  not  know  of  any  other 
designs  that  he  had  formed;  but  he  was  in  such  a 
hurry  to  be  gone,  and  his  spirits  so  greatly  dis- 
composed, that  I  had  difficulty  in  finding  out  even 
so  much  as  this.'* 


CHAPTER  XV. 


The  whole  party  were  in  hopes  of  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Bennet  the  next  morning,  but  the  post  came 
in  without  bringing  a  single  line  from  him.  His 
family  knew  him  to  be,  on  all  common  occasions,  a 
most  negligent  and  dilatory  correspondent;  but  at 
such  a  time  they  had  hoped  for  exertion.  They 
were  forced  to  conclude  that  he  had  no  pleasing 
intelligence  to  send,  but  even  of  that  they  would 
have  been  glad  to  be  certain.  Mr.  Gardiner  had 
waited  only  for  the  letters  before  he  set  off. 

When  he  was  gone,  they  were  certain  at  least 
of  receiving  constant  information  of  what  was  go- 
ing on;  and  their  uncle  promised,  at  parting,  to 
prevail  on  Mr.  Bennet  to  return  to  Longbourn  as 
soon  as  he  could,  to  the  great  consolation  of  his 
sister,  who  considered  it  as  the  only  security  for 
her  husband's  not  being  killed  in  a  dael. 

Mrs.  Gardiner  and  the  children  were  to  remain 
in  Hertfordshire  a  few  days  longer,  as  the  former 
thought  her  presence  might  be  serviceable  to  her 
nieces.  She  shared  in  their  attendance  on  Mrs. 
Bennet,  and  was  a  great  comfort  to  them  in  their 
hours  of  freedom.    Their  other  aunt  also  visited 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


151 


them  frequently,  and  always,  as  she  said,  with  the 
design  of  cheering  and  heartening  them  up,  though, 
as  she  never  came  without  reporting  some  fresh 
instance  of  Wickham's  extravagance  or  irregu- 
larity, she  seldom  went  away  without  leaving  them 
more  dispirited  than  she  found  them. 

All  Meryton  seemed  striving  to  blacken  the  man 
who,  but  three  months  before,  had  been  almost  an 
angel  of  light.  He  was  declared  to  be  in  debt  to 
every  tradesman  in  the  place;  and  his  intrigues, 
all  honored  with  the  title  of  seduction,  had  been 
extended  into  every  tradesman's  family.  Every- 
body declared  that  he  was  the  wickedest  young 
man  in  the  world;  and  everybody  began  to  find 
out  that  they  had  always  distrusted  the  appear- 
ance of  his  goodness.  Elizabeth,  though  she  did 
not  credit  above  half  of  what  was  said,  believed 
enough  to  make  her  former  assurance  of  her  sis- 
ter's ruin  still  more  certain;  and  even  Jane,  who 
believed  still  less  of  it,  became  almost  hopeless, 
more  especially  as  the  time  w^as  now  come  when, 
if  they  had  gone  to  Scotland,  which  she  had  never 
before  entirely  despaired  of,  they  must  in  all  prob- 
ability have  gained  some  news  of  them. 

Mr.  Gardiner  left  Longbourn  on  Sunday;  on 
Tuesday  his  wife  received  a  letter  from  him:  it 
told  them  that  on  his  arrival  he  had  immediately 
found  out  his  brother,  and  persuaded  him  to  come 
to   Gracechurch   Street;    that   Mr.  Bennet  had 


152  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


been  to  Epsom  and  Clapham  before  his  arrival, 
but  without  gaining  any  satisfactory  information; 
and  that  he  was  now  determined  to  inquire  at  all 
the  principal  hotels  in  town,  as  Mr.  Bennet 
thought  it  possible  they  might  have  gone  to  one 
of  them,  on  their  first  coming  to  London,  before 
they  procured  lodgings.  Mr.  Gardiner  himself 
did  not  expect  any  success  from  this  measure;  but 
as  his  brother  was  eager  in  it,  he  meant  to  assist 
him  in  pursuing  it.  He  added  that  Mr.  Bennet 
seemed  wholly  disinclined  at  present  to  leave 
London,  and  promised  to  write  again  very  soon. 
There  was  also  a  postscript  to  this  effect:  — 

"I  have  written  to  Colonel  Forster  to  desire  him  to 
find  out,  if  possible,  from  some  of  the  young  man's  inti- 
mates in  the  regiment,  whether  Wickham  has  any  rela- 
tions or  connections  who  would  be  likely  to  know  in  what 
part  of  the  town  he  has  now  concealed  himself.  If  there 
were  any  one  that  one  could  apply  to,  with  a  probability 
of  gaining  such  a  clew  as  that,  it  might  be  of  essential 
consequence.  At  present  we  have  nothing  to  guide  us. 
Colonel  Forster  will,  I  dare  say,  do  everything  in  his 
power  to  satisfy  us  on  this  head.  But,  on  second  thoughts, 
perhaps  Lizzy  could  tell  us  what  relations  he  has  now 
living  better  than  any  other  person." 

Elizabeth  was  at  no  loss  to  understand  from 
whence  this  deference  for  her  authority  proceeded; 
but  it  was  not  in  her  power  to  give  any  information 
of  so  satisfactory  a  nature  as  the  compliment 
deserved. 


PRIDE  AND  P:HEJUDICE. 


153 


She  had  never  heard  of  his  having  had  any 
relations,  except  a  father  and  mother,  both  of 
whom  had  been  dead  many  years.  It  was  possi- 
ble, however,  that  some  of  his  companions  in  the 

 shire  might  be  able  to  give  more  information  j 

and  though  she  was  not  very  sanguine  in  expect- 
ing it,  the  application  was  a  something  to  look 
forward  to. 

Every  day  at  Longbourn  was  no'w  a  day  of  anxi- 
ety; but  the  most  anxious  part  of  each  was  when 
the  post  was  expected.  The  arrival  of  letters  was 
the  first  grand  object  of  every  morning's  impa- 
tience. Through  letters  whatever  of  good  or  bad 
was  to  be  told  would  be  communicated,  and  every 
succeeding  day  was  expected  to  bring  some  news 
of  importance. 

But  before  they  heard  again  from  Mr.  Gar- 
diner, a  letter  arrived  for  their  father  from  a 
different  quarter,  from  Mr.  Collins;  which,  as 
Jane  had  received  directions  to  open  all  that  came 
for  him  in  his  absence,  she  accordingly  read;  and 
Elizabeth,  who  knew  what  curiosities  his  letters 
always  were,  looked  over  her,  and  read  it  likewise. 
It  was  as  follows :  — 

My  dear  Sir,  —  I  feel  myself  called  upon,  by  our  re- 
lationship and  my  situation  in  life,  to  condole  with  you  on 
the  grievous  affliction  you  are  now  suffering  under,  of 
which  we  were  yesterday  informed  by  a  letter  from 
Hertfordshire.  Be  assured,  my  dear  sir,  that  Mrs.  Col- 
lins and  myself  sincerely  sympathize  with  you,  and  all 


154  PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


your  respectable  family,  in  your  present  distress,  which 
must  be  of  the  bitterest  kind,  because  proceeding  from  r« 
cause  which  no  time  can  remove.  No  arguments  shall 
be  wanting  on  my  part,  that  can  alleviate  so  severe  a 
misfortune ;  or  that  may  comfort  you,  under  a  circum- 
stance that  must  be,  of  all  others,  most  afflicting  to  a 
parent's  mind.  The  death  of  your  daughter  would  have 
been  a  blessing  in  comparison  of  this.  And  it  is  the 
more  to  be  lamented,  because  there  is  reason  to  suppose, 
as  my  dear  Charlotte  informs  me,  that  this  licentiousness 
of  behavior  in  your  daughter  has  proceeded  from  a  faulty 
degree  of  indulgence ;  though,  at  the  same  time,  for  the 
consolation  of  yourself  and  Mrs.  Bennet,  I  am  inclined 
to  think  that  her  own  disposition  must  be  naturally  bad, 
or  she  could  not  be  guilty  of  such  an  enormity  at  so 
early  an  age.  Howsoever  that  may  be,  you  are  griev- 
ously to  be  pitied,  in  which  opinion  I  am  not  only  joined 
by  Mrs.  Collins,  but  likewise  by  Lady  Catherine  and  her 
daughter,  to  whom  I  have  related  the  affair.  They  agree 
with  me  in  apprehending  that  this  false  step  in  one 
daughter  will  be  injurious  to  the  fortunes  of  all  the 
others ;  for  who,  as  Lady  Catherine  herself  condescend- 
ingly says,  will  connect  themselves  with  such  a  family? 
And  this  consideration  leads  me,  moreover,  to  reflect, 
with  augmented  satisfaction,  on  a  certain  event  of  last 
November ;  for  had  it  been  otherwise,  I  must  have  been 
involved  in  all  your  sorrow  and  disgrace.  Let  me  advise 
you,  then,  my  dear  sir,  to  console  yourself  as  much  as 
possible,  to  throw  off  your  unworthy  child  from  your 
affection  forever,  and  leave  her  to  reap  the  fruits  of  her 
own  heinous  offence. 

I  am,  dear  sir,  etc.,  etc. 

Mr.  Gardiner  did  not  write  again  till  he  had 
received  an  answer  from  Colonel  Forsterj  and 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


155 


then  he  had  nothing  of  a  pleasant  nature  to  send. 
It  was  not  known  that  Wickham  had  a  single 
relation  with  whom  he  kept  up  any  connection, 
and  it  was  certain  that  he  had  no  near  one  living. 
His  former  acquaintance  had  heen  numerous;  but 
since  he  had  been  in  the  militia,  it  did  not  appear 
that  he  was  on  terms  of  particular  friendship  with 
any  of  them.  There  was  no  one,  therefore,  who 
could  be  pointed  out  as  likely  to  give  any  news  of 
him.  And  in  the  wretched  state  of  his  own 
finances  there  was  a  very  powerful  motive  for 
secrecy,  in  addition  to  his  fear  of  discovery  by 
Lydia's  relations;  for  it  had  just  transpired  that 
he  had  left  gaming  debts  behind  him  to  a  very 
considerable  amount.  Colonel  Forster  believed 
that  more  than  a  thousand  pounds  would  be  neces- 
sary to  clear  his  expenses  at  Brighton.  He  owed 
a  good  deal  in  the  town,  but  his  debts  of  honor 
were  still  more  formidable.  Mr.  Gardiner  did 
not  attempt  to  conceal  these  particulars  from  the 
Longbourn  family.  Jane  heard  them  with  horror. 
^^A  gamester!''  she  cried.  ^'This  is  wholly 
unexpected;  I  had  not  an  idea  of  it." 

Mr.  Gardiner  added,  in  his  letter,  that  they 
might  expect  to  see  their  father  at  home  on  the 
following  day,  which  was  Saturday.  Kendered 
spiritless  by  the  ill  success  of  all  their  endeavors,  he 
had  yielded  to  his  brother-in-law's  entreaty  that 
he  would  return  to  his  family  and  leave  it  to  him 


156  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


to  do  whatever  occasion  miglit  suggest  to  be 
advisable  for  continuing  their  pursuit.  When 
Mrs.  Bennet  was  told  of  this,  she  did  not  express 
so  much  satisfaction  as  her  children  expected,  con- 
sidering what  her  anxiety  for  his  life  had  been 
before. 

*^What!  is  he  coming  home,  and  without  poor 
Lydia? she  cried.  ^'Sure  he  will  not  leave 
London  before  he  has  found  them.  Who  is  to 
fight  Wickham,  and  make  him  marry  her,  if  he 
comes  away? 

As  Mrs.  Gardiner  began  to  wish  to  be  at  home, 
it  was  settled  that  she  and  her  children  should  go 
to  London  at  the  same  time  that  Mr.  Bennet  came 
from  it.  The  coach  therefore  took  them  the 
first  stage  of  their  journey,  and  brought  its  master 
back  to  Longbourn. 

Mrs.  Gardiner  went  away  in  all  the  perplexity 
about  Elizabeth  and  her  Derbyshire  friend  that 
had  attended  her  from  that  part  of  the  world. 
His  name  had  never  been  voluntarily  mentioned 
before  them  by  her  niece;  and  the  kind  of  half- 
expectation  which  Mrs.  Gardiner  had  formed,  of 
their  being  followed  by  a  letter  from  him,  had 
ended  in  nothing.  Elizabeth  had  received  none 
since  her  return,  that  could  come  from  Pemberley, 

The  present  unhappy  state  of  the  family  rendered 
any  other  excuse  for  the  lowness  of  her  spirits  un- 
necessary; nothing  therefore  could  be  fairly  con" 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


157 


jectured  from  that,  though  Elizabeth,  who  was  by 
this  time  tolerably  well  acquainted  with  her  own 
feelings,  was  perfectly  aware  that  had  she  known 
nothing  of  Darcy,  she  could  have  borne  the  dread 
of  Lydia^s  infamy  somewhat  better.  It  would 
have  spared  her,  she  thought,  one  sleepless  night 
out  of  two. 

When  Mr.  Bennet  arrived,  he  had  all  the  ap- 
pearance of  his  usual  philosophic  composure.  He 
said  as  little  as  he  had  ever  been  in  the  habit  of 
saying,  made  no  mention  of  the  business  that  had 
taken  him  away,  and  it  was  some  time  before  his 
daughters  had  courage  to  speak  of  it. 

It  was  not  till  the  afternoon,  when  he  joined 
them  at  tea,  that  Elizabeth  ventured  to  introduce 
the  subject;  and  then,  on  her  briefly  expressing 
her  sorrow  for  what  he  must  have  endured,  he  re- 
plied: **Say  nothing  of  that.  Who  should  suffer 
but  myself?  It  has  been  my  own  doing,  and  I 
ought  to  feel  it." 

^^You  must  not  be  too  severe  upon  yourself/' 
replied  Elizabeth. 

You  may  well  warn  me  against  such  an  evil. 
Human  nature  is  so  prone  to  fall  into  it!  No, 
Lizzy,  let  me  once  in  my  life  feel  how  much  I  have 
been  to  blame.  I  am  not  afraid  of  being  over- 
powered by  the  impression.  It  will  pass  away 
soon  enough." 

<^Do  you  suppose  them  to  be  in  London?  " 


158  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Yes ;  where  else  can  they  be  so  well  concealed? ' 

'^And  Lydia  used  to  want  to  go  to  London/' 
added  Kitty. 

^'She  is  happy,  then/'  said  her  father,  dryly; 

and  her  residence  there  will  probably  be  of  some 
duration.'' 

Then,    after   a   short    silence,    he  continued: 

Lizzy,  I  bear  you  no  ill-will  for  being  justified 
in  your  advice  to  me  last  May,  which,  considering 
the  event,  shows  some  greatness  of  mind." 

They  were  interrupted  by  Miss  Bennet,  who 
came  to  fetch  her  mother's  tea. 

^^This  is  a  parade,"  cried  he,  which  does  one 
good;  it  gives  such  an  elegance  to  misfortune! 
Another  day  I  will  do  the  same;  I  will  sit  in 
my  library,  in  my  nightcap  and  powdering-gown, 
and  give  as  much  trouble  as  I  can,  —  or  perhaps  I 
may  defer  it  till  Kitty  runs  away." 

am  not  going  to  run  away,  papa,"  said 
Kitty,  fretfully.  ^'If  I  should  ever  go  to  Brigh- 
ton, I  would  behave  better  than  Lydia." 

You  go  to  Brighton!  I  would  not  trust  you 
so  near  it  as  East  Bourne  for  fifty  pounds!  No, 
Kitty,  I  have  at  least  learned  to  be  cautious,  and 
you  will  feel  the  effects  of  it.  No  officer  is  ever 
to  enter  my  house  again,  nor  even  to  pass  through 
the  village.  Balls  will  be  absolutely  prohibited, 
unless  you  stand  up  with  one  of  your  sisters.  And 
you  are  never  to  stir  out  of  doors  till  you  can 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


159 


prove  that  you  have  spent  ten  minutes  of  every 
day  in  a  rational  manner/' 

Kitty  who  took  all  these  threats  in  a  serious 
light,  hegan  to  cry. 

^^Well,  well,"  said  he,  ''do  not  make  yourself 
unhappy.  If  you  are  a  good  girl  for  the  next  ten 
years,  I  will  take  you  to  a  review  at  the  end  of 
them." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


Two  days  after  Mr.  Bennet's  return,  as  Jane  and 
Elizabeth  were  walking  together  in  the  shrubbery 
behind  the  house,  they  saw  the  housekeeper  coming 
towards  them,  and  concluding  that  she  came  to  call 
them  to  their  mother,  went  forward  to  meet  her; 
but  instead  of  the  expected  summons,  when  they 
approached  her,  she  said  to  Miss  Bennet,  *'Ibeg 
your  pardon,  madam,  for  interrupting  you,  but 
I  was  in  hopes  you  might  have  got  some  good 
news  from  town,  so  I  took  the  liberty  of  coming  to 
ask." 

**What  do  you  mean.  Hill?  We  have  heard 
nothing  from  town." 

'^Dear  madam,"  cried  Mrs.  Hill,  in  great  as- 
tonishment, don't  you  know  there  is  an  express 
come  for  master  from  Mr.  Gardiner?  He  has 
been  here  this  half-hour,  and  master  has  had  a 
letter." 

Away  ran  the  girls,  too  eager  to  get  in  to  have 
time  for  speech.  They  ran  through  the  vesti- 
bule into  the  breakfast-room;  from  thence  to  the 
library.  Their  father  was  in  neither;  and  they 
were  on  the  point  of  seeking  him  upstairs  with 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  161 


their  mother,  when  they  were  met  by  the  butler, 
who  said,  — 

^'If  you  are  looking  for  my  master,  ma'am,  he 
is  walking  towards  the  little  copse/' 

Upon  this  information,  they  instantly  passed 
through  the  hall  once  more,  and  ran  across  the 
lawn  after  their  father,  who  was  deliberately  pur- 
suing his  w^ay  towards  a  small  wood  on  one  side 
of  the  paddock. 

Jane,  who  was  not  so  light  nor  so  much  in  the 
habit  of  running  as  Elizabeth,  soon  lagged  behind; 
while  her  sister,  panting  for  breath,  came  up  with 
him,  and  eagerl}^  cried  out,  — 

Oh,  papa,  what  news,  what  news?  Have  you 
heard  from  my  uncle?'' 

Yes,  I  have  had  a  letter  from  him  by  express." 
Well,  and  what  news  does  it  bring,  — good  or 
bad?  " 

^^What  is  there  of  good  to  be  expected?"  said 
he,  taking  the  letter  from  his  pocket;  ^^but  per- 
haps you  would  like  to  read  it." 

Elizabeth  impatiently  caught  it  from  his  hand. 
Jane  now  came  up. 

*^Kead  it  aloud,"  said  their  father,  ''for  I 
hardly  know  myself  what  it  is  about." 

Gracechdrch  Street,  Monday,  August  2. 
My  dear  Brother,  —  At  last  I  am  able  to  send  you 
some  tidings  of  my  niece,  and  such  as,  upon  the  whole,  I 
hope  will  give  you  satisfaction.    Soon  after  you  left  me 

VOL.  II.  —  11 


162  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


on  Saturday,  I  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  out  in  what 
part  of  London  they  were.  The  particulars  I  reserve  till 
we  meet.  It  is  enough  to  know  they  are  discovered : 
I  have  seen  them  both  — 

''Then  it  is  as  I  always  hoped,"  cried  Jane: 
''they  are  married  ! 
Elizabeth  read  on :  — 

I  have  seen  them  both.  They  are  not  married,  nor 
can  I  find  there  was  any  intention  of  being  so  ;  but  if 
you  are  willing  to  perform  the  engagements  which  I  have 
ventured  to  make  on  your  side,  I  hope  it  will  not  be  long 
before  they  are.  All  that  is  required  of  you  is  to  assure 
to  your  daughter,  by  settlement,  her  equal  share  of  the  five 
thousand  pounds  secured  among  your  children  after  the 
decease  of  yourself  and  my  sister ;  and  moreover  to  enter 
into  an  engagement  of  allowing  her,  during  your  life, 
one  hundred  pounds  per  annum.  These  are  conditions 
which,  considering  everything,  I  had  no  hesitation  in 
complying  with,  as  far  as  I  thought  myself  privileged,  for 
you.  I  shall  send  this  by  express,  that  no  time  may  be 
lost  in  bringing  me  your  answer.  You  will  easily  com- 
prehend, from  these  particulars,  that  Mr.  Wickham's 
circumstances  are  not  so  hopeless  as  they  are  generally 
believed  to  be.  The  world  has  been  deceived  in  that  re- 
spect ;  and  I  am  happy  to  say  there  will  be  some  little 
money,  even  when  all  his  debts  are  discharged,  to  settle 
on  my  niece,  in  addition  to  her  own  fortune.  If,  as  I 
conclude  will  be  the  case,  you  send  me  full  powers  to  act 
in  your  name  throughout  the  whole  of  this  business,  I 
will  immediately  give  directions  to  Haggerston  for  pre-^ 
paring  a  proper  settlement.  There  will  not  be  the  small- 
est occasion  for  your  coming  to  town  again;  therefore 
stay  quietly  at  Longbourn,  and  depend  on  my  diligence 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


163 


and  care.  Send  back  your  answer  as  soon  as  you  can, 
and  be  careful  to  write  explicitly.  We  have  judged  it 
best  that  my  niece  should  be  married  from  this  house, 
of  which  I  hope  you  will  approve.  She  comes  to  us 
to-day.  I  shall  write  again  as  soon  as  anything  more  is 
determined  on. 

Yours,  etc. 

Edw.  Gardiner. 

^^Is  it  possible?''  cried  Elizabeth,  when  she 
had  finished.  ^'Can  it  be  possible  that  he  will 
marry  her?  " 

^^Wickham  is  not  so  undeserving,  then,  as  we 
have  thought  him,"  said  her  sister.  ^'My  dear 
father,  I  congratulate  you." 

^^And  have  you  answered  the  letter?"  said 
Elizabeth. 

^^No;  but  it  must  be  done  soon." 

Most  earnestly  did  she  then  entreat  him  to  lose 
no  more  time  before  he  wrote. 

^^Oh,  my  dear  father,"  she  cried,  '^come  back 
and  write  immediately.  Consider  how  important 
every  moment  is  in  such  a  case." 

^^Let  me  write  for  you,"  said  Jane,  '^if  you 
dislike  the  trouble  yourself." 

dislike  it  very  much,"  he  replied;  ^^but  it 
must  be  done." 

And  so  saying,  he  turned  back  with  them,  and 
walked  towards  the  house. 

*'And  may  I  ask?''  said  Elizabeth;  ^^but  the 
terms,  I  suppose,  must  be  complied  with." 


164 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


^^Complied  witli!  I  am  only  ashamed  of  his 
asking  so  little/' 

^^And  they  must  marry!  Yet  he  is  such  a 
man.'' 

^^Yes,  yes,  they  must  marry.  There  is  noth- 
ing else  to  be  done.  But  there  are  two  things 
that  I  want  very  much  to  know,  — one  is,  how 
much  money  your  uncle  has  laid  down  to  bring 
it  about  J  and  the  other,  how  I  am  ever  to  pay 
him." 

Money!  my  uncle!"  cried  Jane;  ^^what  do 
you  mean,  sir?" 

^^I  mean  that  no  man  in  his  senses  would  marry 
Lydia  on  so  slight  a  temptation  as  one  hundred  a 
year  during  my  life,  and  fifty  after  I  am  gone." 

^^That  is  very  true,"  said  Elizabeth;  though 
it  had  not  occurred  to  me  before.  His  debts  to  be 
discharged,  and  something  still  to  remain!  Oh, 
it  must  be  my  uncle's  doings!  Generous,  good 
man,  I  am  afraid  he  has  distressed  himself.  A 
small  sum  could  not  do  all  this." 

^^No, "  said  her  father.  Wickham 's  a  fool  if 
he  takes  her  with  a  farthing  less  than  ten  thou- 
sand pounds :  I  should  be  sorry  to  think  so  ill  of 
him,  in  the  very  beginning  of  our  relationship." 

Ten  thousand  pounds!  Heaven  forbid!  How 
is  half  such  a  sum  to  be  repaid?  " 

Mr.  Bennet  made  no  answer;  and  each  of  them, 
deep  in  thought,  continued  silent  till  they  reached 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  165 


the  house.  Their  father  then  went  to  the  library 
to  write,  and  the  girls  walked  into  the  breakfast- 
room. 

''And  they  are  really  to  be  married!''  cried 
Elizabeth,  as  soon  as  they  were  by  themselves. 
''How  strange  this  is!  and  for  this  we  are  to  be 
thankful.  That  they  should  marry,  small  as  is 
their  chance  of  happiness,  and  wretched  as  is  his 
character,  we  are  forced  to  rejoice!    Oh,  Lydia  !  '' 

"I  comfort  myself  with  thinking,''  replied 
Jane,  "that  he  certainly  would  not  marry  Lydia 
if  he  had  not  a  real  regard  for  her.  Though  our 
kind  uncle  has  done  something  towards  clearing 
him,  I  cannot  believe  that  ten  thousand  pounds, 
or  anything  like  it,  has  been  advanced.  He  has 
children  of  his  own,  and  may  have  more.  How 
could  he  spare  half  ten  thousand  pounds?" 

"If  we  are  ever  able  to  learn  what  Wickham's 
debts  have  been,"  said  Elizabeth,  "and  how  much 
is  settled  on  his  side  on  our  sister,  we  shall  ex- 
actly know  what  Mr.  Gardiner  has  done  for  them, 
because  Wickham  has  not  sixpence  of  his  own. 
The  kindness  of  my  uncle  and  aunt  can  never  be 
requited.  Their  taking  her  home,  and  affording 
her  their  personal  protection  and  countenance,  is 
such  a  sacrifice  to  her  advantage  as  years  of  grati-* 
tude  cannot  enough  acknowledge.  By  this  time 
she  is  actually  with  them !  If  such  goodness  does 
not  make  her  miserable  now,  she  will  never  de- 


166  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


serve  to  be  happy!  What  a  meeting  for  her,  when 
she  first  sees  my  aunt!  " 

^^We  must  endeavor  to  forget  all  that  has 
passed  on  either  side,'^  said  Jane.  I  hope  and 
trust  they  will  yet  be  happy.  His  consenting  to 
marry  her  is  a  proof,  I  will  believe,  that  he  is 
come  to  a  right  way  of  thinking.  Their  mutual 
affection  will  steady  them;  and  I  flatter  myself 
they  will  settle  so  quietly,  and  live  in  so  rational 
a  manner,  as  may  in  time  make  their  past  impru- 
dence forgotten. 

Their  conduct  has  been  such,''  replied  Eliza- 
beth, ^^as  neither  you  nor  I  nor  anybody  can 
ever  forget.    It  is  useless  to  talk  of  it.'' 

It  now  occurred  to  the  girls  that  their  mother 
was  in  all  likelihood  perfectly  ignorant  of  what 
had  happened.  They  went  to  the  library,  there- 
fore, and  asked  their  father  whether  he  would  not 
wish  them  to  make  it  known  to  her.  He  was 
writing,  and  without  raising  his  head,  coolly 
replied,  — 

Just  as  you  please." 

^^May  we  take  my  uncle's  letter  to  read  to 
her?'' 

^^Take  whatever  you  like,  and  get  away." 

Elizabeth  took  the  letter  from  his  writing-table, 
and  they  went  upstairs  together.  Mary  and 
Kitty  were  both  with  Mrs.  Bennet:  one  com- 
munication would  therefore  do  for  all.  After 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


167 


a  slight  preparation  for  good  news,  the  letter  was 
read  aloud.  Mrs.  Bennet  could  hardly  contain 
herself.  As  soon  as  Jane  had  read  Mr.  Gardiner's 
hope  of  Lydia's  being  soon  married,  her  joy  hurst 
forth,  and  every  following  sentence  added  to  its 
exuberance.  She  was  now  in  an  irritation  as 
violent  from  delight  as  she  had  ever  been  fidgety 
from  alarm  and  vexation.  To  know  that  her 
daughter  would  be  married  was  enough.  She 
was  disturbed  by  no  fear  for  her  felicity,  nor 
humbled  by  any  remembrance  of  her  misconduct. 

^^My  dear,  dear  Lydia! ''  she  cried;  ^'this  is 
delightful  indeed!  She  will  be  married!  I  shall 
see  her  again!  She  will  be  married  at  sixteen! 
My  good,  kind  brother!  I  knew  how  it  would 
be,  — I  knew  he  would  manage  everything.  How 
I  long  to  see  her,  and  to  see  dear  Wickham  too ! 
But  the  clothes,  the  wedding-clothes!  I  will 
write  to  my  sister  Gardiner  about  them  directly. 
Lizzy,  my  dear,  run  down  to  your  father,  and  ask 
him  how  much  he  will  give  her.  Stay,  staj^,  I 
will  go  myself.  King  the  bell,  Kitty,  for  Hill. 
I  will  put  on  my  things  in  a  moment.  My  dear, 
dear  Lydia!  How  merry  we  shall  be  together 
when  we  meet !  " 

Her  eldest  daughter  endeavored  to  give  some 
relief  to  the  violence  of  these  transports,  by  lead- 
ing her  thoughts  to  the  obligations  which  Mr. 
Gardiner's  behavior  laid  them  all  under. 


168  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


*^For  we  must  attribute  this  happy  conclusion,'* 
she  added,  ^'in  a,  great  measure  to  his  kindness. 
We  are  persuaded  that  he  has  pledged  himself  to 
assist  Mr.  Wickham  with  money." 

^^Well, cried  her  mother,  *^it  is  all  very 
right;  who  should  do  it  but  her  own  uncle?  If 
he  had  not  had  a  family  of  his  own,  I  and  my 
children  must  have  had  all  his  money,  you  know; 
and  it  is  the  first  time  we  have  ever  had  anything 
from  him  except  a  few  presents.  Well!  I  am  so 
happy.  In  a  short  time  I  shall  have  a  daughter 
married.  Mrs.  Wickham!  How  well  it  sounds! 
And  she  was  only  sixteen  last  June.  My  dear 
Jane,  I  am  in  such  a  flutter  that  I  am  sure  I 
can't  write;  so  I  will  dictate,  and  you  write  for 
me.  We  will  settle  with  your  father  about  the 
money  afterwards;  but  the  things  should  be 
ordered  immediately." 

She  was  then  proceeding  to  all  the  particulars 
of  calico,  muslin,  and  cambric,  and  would  shortly 
have  dictated  some  very  plentiful  orders,  had  not 
Jane,  though  with  some  difficulty,  persuaded  her 
to  wait  till  her  father  was  at  leisure  to  be  con- 
sulted. One  day's  delay,  she  observed,  would  be 
of  small  importance;  and  her  mother  was  too 
happy  to  be  quite  so  obstinate  as  usual.  Other 
schemes,  too,  came  into  her  head. 

<^I  will  go  to  Meryton,"  said  she,  ^^as  soon  as 
I  am  dressed,  and  tell  the  good,  good  news  to  my 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


169 


sister  Philips.  And  as  I  come  back,  I  can  call 
on  Lady  Lucas  and  Mrs.  Long.  Kitty,  run  down 
and  order  the  carriage.  An  airing  would  do  me 
a  great  deal  of  good,  I  am  sure.  Girls,  can  I  do 
anything  for  you  in  Meryton?  Oh!  here  comes 
Hill.  My  dear  Hill,  have  you  heard  the  good 
news?  Miss  Lydia  is  going  to  be  married;  a»d 
you  shall  all  have  a  bowl  of  punch  to  make  merry 
at  her  wedding.'' 

Mrs.  Hill  began  instantly  to  express  her  joy. 
Elizabeth  received  her  congratulations  amongst 
the  rest,  and  then,  sick  of  this  folly,  took  refuge 
in  her  own  room,  that  she  might  think  with  free- 
dom. Poor  Lydia's  situation  must,  at  best,  be 
bad  enough;  but  that  it  was  no  worse,  she  had 
need  to  be  thankful.  She  felt  it  so ;  and  though, 
in  looking  forward,  neither  rational  happiness  nor 
worldly  prosperity  could  be  justly  expected  for 
her  sister,  in  looking  back  to  what  they  had 
feared  only  two  hours  ago,  she  felt  all  the  ad- 
vantages of  what  they  had  gained. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Mr.  Bennet  had  very  often  wished,  before  this 
period  of  his  life,  that  instead  of  spending  his 
whole  income  he  had  laid  by  an  annual  sum, 
for  the  better  provision  of  his  children,  and  of 
his  wife,  if  she  survived  him.  He  now  wished 
it  more  than  ever.  Had  he  done  his  duty  in 
that  respect,  Lydia  need  not  have  been  indebted 
to  her  uncle  for  whatever  of  honor  or  credit  could 
now  be  purchased  for  her.  The  satisfaction  of 
|3revailing  on  one  of  the  most  worthless  young 
men  in  Great  Britain  to  be  her  husband  might 
"*;hen  have  rested  in  its  proper  place. 

He  was  seriously  concerned  that  a  cause  of  so 
little  advantage  to  any  one  should  be  forwarded 
at  the  sole  expense  of  his  brother-in-law;  and 
he  was  determined,  if  possible,  to  find  out  the 
extent  of  his  assistance,  and  to  discharge  the 
obligation  as  soon  as  he  could. 

When  first  Mr.  Bennet  had  married,  economy 
was  held  to  be  perfectly  useless ;  for,  of  course, 
they  were  to  have  a  son.  This  son  was  to  join 
in  cutting  off  the  entail,  as  soon  as  he  should 
be  of  age;  and  the  widow  and  younger  children 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


171 


would  by  that  means  be  provided  for.  Five 
daughters  successively  entered  the  world,  but  yet 
the  son  was  to  come;  and  Mrs.  Bennet,  for  many 
years  after  Lydia's  birth,  had  been  certain  that 
he  would.  This  event  had  at  last  been  despaired 
of;  but  it  was  then  too  late  to  be  saving.  Mrs. 
Bennet  had  no  turn  for  economy;  and  her  hus- 
band's love  of  independence  had  alone  prevented 
their  exceeding  their  income. 

Five  thousand  pounds  was  settled  by  marriage 
articles  on  Mrs.  Bennet  and  the  children.  But 
in  what  proportions  it  should  be  divided  amongst 
the  latter  depended  on  the  will  of  the  parents. 
This  was  one  point,  with  regard  to  Lydia  at 
least,  which  was  now  to  be  settled;  and  Mr. 
Bennet  could  have  no  hesitation  in  acceding  to 
the  proposal  before  him.  In  terms  of  grateful 
acknowledgment  for  the  kindness  of  his  brother, 
though  expressed  most  concisely,  he  then  de- 
livered on  paper  his  perfect  approbation  of  all 
that  was  done,  and  his  willingness  to  fulfil  the 
engagements  that  had  been  made  for  him.  He 
had  never  before  supposed  that,  could  Wickham 
be  prevailed  on  to  marry  his  daughter,  it  would 
be  done  with  so  little  inconvenience  to  himself  as 
by  the  present  arrangement.  He  would  scarcely 
be  ten  pounds  a  year  the  loser,  by  the  hundred 
that  was  to  be  paid  them;  for,  what  with  her 
board  and  pocket  allowance,  and  the  continual 


172  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


presents  in  money  wliich  passed  to  her  through 
her  mother's  hands,  Lydia's  expenses  had  heen 
very  little  within  that  sum. 

That  it  would  be  done  with  such  trifling  ex- 
ertion on  his  side,  too,  was  another  very  welcome 
surprise;  for  his  chief  wish  at  present  was  to 
have  as  little  trouble  in  the  business  as  possible. 
When  the  first  transports  of  rage  which  had  pro- 
duced his  activity  in  seeking  her  were  over,  he 
naturally  returned  to  all  his  former  indolence. 
His  letter  was  soon  despatched;  for  though  dila- 
tory in  undertaking  business,  he  was  quick  in  its 
execution.  He  begged  to  know  further  particulars 
of  what  he  was  indebted  to  his  brother,  but  was  too 
angry  with  Lydia  to  send  any  message  to  her. 

The  good  news  quickly  spread  through  the 
house,  and  with  proportionate  speed  through  the 
neighborhood.  It  was  borne  in  the  latter  with 
decent  philosophy.  To  be  sure,  it  would  have 
been  more  for  the  advantage  of  conversation,  had 
Miss  Lydia  Bennet  come  upon  the  town,  or,  as 
the  happiest  alternative,  been  secluded  from  the 
world,  in  some  distant  farm-house.  But  there 
was  much  to  be  talked  of,  in  marrying  her;  and 
the  good-natured  wishes  for  her  well-doing,  which 
had  proceeded  before  from  all  the  spiteful  old 
ladies  in  Meryton,  lost  but  little  of  their  spirit 
in  this  change  of  circumstances,  because  with  such 
a  husband  her  misery  was  vonsidered  certain. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


173 


It  was  a  fortnight  since  Mrs.  Bennet  had  been 
downstairs,  but  on  this  happy  day  she  again  took 
her  seat  at  the  head  of  her  table,  and  in  spirits 
oppressively  high.  No  sentiment  of  shame  gave  a 
damp  to  her  triumph.  The  marriage  of  a  daughter, 
which  had  been  the  first  object  of  her  wishes  since 
Jane  was  sixteen,  was  now  on  the  point  of  accom- 
plishment; and  her  thoughts  and  her  words  ran 
wholly  on  those  attendants  of  elegant  nuptials, 
fine  muslins,  new  carriages,  and  servants.  She 
was  busily  searching  through  the  neighborhood  for 
a  proper  situation  for  her  daughter;  and  without 
knowing  or  considering  what  their  income  might  be, 
rejected  many  as  deficient  in  size  and  importance. 

*^Haye  Park  might  do,''  said  she,  '^if  the 
Gouldings  would  quit  it,  or  the  great  house  at 
Stoke,  if  the  drawing-room  were  larger;  but  Ash- 
worth  is  too  far  off.  I  could  not  bear  to  have  her 
ten  miles  from  me;  and  as  for  Purvis  Lodge,  the 
attics  are  dreadful.'' 

Her  husband  allowed  her  to  talk  on  without  in- 
terruption while  the  servants  remained.  But  when 
they  had  withdrawn,  he  said  to  her:  ^^Mrs.  Ben- 
net,  before  you  take  any  or  all  of  these  houses  for 
your  son  and  daughter,  let  us  come  to  a  right  un- 
derstanding. Into  one  house  in  this  neighborhood 
they  shall  never  have  admittance.  I  will  not  en- 
courage the  imprudence  of  either,  by  receiving  them 
at  Longbourn." 


174  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


A  long  dispute  followed  this  declaration;  "but 
Mr.  Bennet  was  firm.  It  soon  led  to  another;  and 
Mrs.  Bennet  found,  with  amazement  and  horror, 
that  her  husband  would  not  advance  a  guinea  to 
buy  clothes  for  his  daughter.  He  protested  that 
she  should  receive  from  him  no  mark  of  affection 
whatever  on  the  occasion.  Mrs.  Bennet  could 
hardly  comprehend  it.  That  his  anger  could  be 
carried  to  such  a  point  of  inconceivable  resentment 
as  to  refuse  his  daughter  a  privilege  without 
which  her  marriage  would  scarcely  seem  valid,  ex- 
ceeded all  that  she  could  believe  possible.  She  was 
more  alive  to  the  disgrace  which  her  want  of  new 
clothes  must  reflect  on  her  daughter's  nuptials, 
than  to  any  sense  of  shame  at  her  eloping  and  liv- 
ing with  Wickham  a  fortnight  before  they  took 
place. 

Elizabeth  was  now  most  heartily  sorry  that  she 
had,  from  the  distress  of  the  moment,  been  led  to 
make  Mr.  Darcy  acquainted  with  their  fears  for 
her  sister;  for  since  her  marriage  would  so  shortly 
give  the  proper  termination  to  the  elopement,  they 
might  hope  to  conceal  its  unfavorable  beginning 
from  all  those  who  were  not  immediately  on  the 
spot. 

She  had  no  fear  of  its  spreading  farther  through 
his  means.  There  were  few  people  on  whose  se- 
crecy she  would  have  more  confidently  depended; 
but  at  the  same  time  there  was  no  one  whose 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  175 


knowledge  of  a  sister's  frailty  would  have  mortified 
her  so  much.  Not,  however,  from  auy  fear  of  dis- 
advantage from  it  individually  to  herself;  for  at 
any  rate  there  seemed  a  gulf  impassable  between 
them.  Had  Lydia's  marriage  been  concluded  on 
the  most  honorable  terms,  it  was  not  to  be  sup- 
posed that  Mr.  Darcy  would  connect  himself  with 
a  family  where  to  every  other  objection  would 
now  be  added  an  alliance  and  relationship  of  the 
nearest  kind  with  the  man  whom  he  so  justly 
scorned. 

From  such  a  connection  she  could  not  wonder 
that  he  should  shrink.  The  wish  of  procuring  her 
regard,  which  she  had  assured  herself  of  his  feel- 
ing in  Derbyshire,  could  not  in  rational  expec- 
tation survive  such  a  blow  as  this.  She  was 
humbled,  she  was  grieved;  she  repented,  though 
she  hardly  knew  of  what.  She  became  jealous  of 
his  esteem,  when  she  could  no  longer  hope  to  be 
"benefited  by  it.  She  wanted  to  hear  of  him,  when 
there  seemed  the  least  chance  of  gaining  intelli- 
gence. She  was  convinced  that  she  could  have 
been  happy  with  him,  when  it  was  no  longer 
likely  they  should  meet. 

What  a  triumph  for  him,  as  she  often  thought, 
could  he  know  that  the  proposals  which  she  had 
proudly  spurned  only  four  months  ago  would  now 
have  been  gladly  and  gratefully  received!  He  was 
as  generous,  she  doubted  not,  as  the  most  generous 


176  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


of  his  sex.  But  while  lie  was  mortal,  there  must 
be  a  triumph. 

She  began  now  to  comprehend  that  he  was 
exactly  the  man  who  in  disposition  and  talents 
would  most  suit  her.  His  understanding  and  tem- 
per, though  unlike  her  own,  would  have  answered 
all  her  wishes.  It  was  an  union  that  must  have 
been  to  the  advantage  of  both:  by  her  ease  and 
liveliness  his  mind  might  have  been  softened,  his 
manners  improved;  and  from  his  judgment,  infor- 
mation, and  knowledge  of  the  world  she  must 
have  received  benefit  of  greater  importance. 

But  no  such  happy  marriage  could  now  teach  the 
admiring  multitude  what  connubial  felicity  really 
was.  An  union  of  a  different  tendency,  and  pre- 
cluding the  possibility  of  the  other,  was  soon  to  be 
formed  in  their  family. 

How  Wickham  and  Lydia  were  to  be  supported 
in  tolerable  independence  she  could  not  imagine. 
But  how  little  of  permanent  happiness  could  be- 
long to  a  couple  who  were  only  brought  together 
because  their  passions  were  stronger  than  their 
virtue,  she  could  easily  conjecture. 

Mr.  Gardiner  soon  wrote  again  to  his  brother. 
To  Mr.  Bennet's  acknowledgments  he  briefly  re- 
plied, with  assurances  of  his  eagerness  to  promote 
the  welfare  of  any  of  his  family;  and  concluded 
with  entreaties  that  the  subject  might  never  be 
mentioned  to  him  again.    The  principal  purport 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  177 


of  his  letter  was  to  inform  them  that  Mr. 
Wickham  had  resolved  on  quitting  the  militia. 

"  It  was  greatly  my  wish  that  he  should  do  so,"  he 
added,  "as  soon  as  his  marriage  was  fixed  on.  And  I 
think  you  will  agree  with  me,  in  considering  a  removal 
from  that  corps  as  highly  advisable,  both  on  his  account 
and  my  niece's.  It  is  Mr.  Wickham's  intention  to  go  into 
the  Regulars  ;  and  among  his  former  friends  there  are 
still  some  who  are  able  and  willing  to  assist  him  in  the 
army.    He  has  the  promise  of  an  ensigncy  in  General 

 's  regiment,  now  quartered  in  the  north.    It  is  an 

advantage  to  have  it  so  far  from  this  part  of  the  kingdom. 
He  promises  fairly ;  and  I  hope  among  different  people, 
where  they  may  each  have  a  character  to  preserve,  they 
will  both  be  more  prudent.  I  have  written  to  Colonel 
Forster  to  inform  him  of  our  present  arrangements,  and 
to  request  that  he  will  satisfy  the  various  creditors  of  Mr. 
Wickham  in  and  near  Brighton  with  assurances  of  speedy 
payment,  for  which  I  have  pledged  myself.  And  will  you 
give  yourself  the  trouble  of  carrying  similar  assurances  to 
his  creditors  in  Meryton,  of  whom  I  shall  subjoin  a  list, 
according  to  his  information.  He  has  given  in  all  his 
debts ;  I  hope  at  least  he  has  not  deceived  us.  Hagger- 
8 ton  has  our  directions,  and  all  will  be  completed  in  a 
week.  They  will  then  join  his  regiment,  unless  they  are 
first  invited  to  Longbourn;  and  I  understand  from  Mrs. 
Gardiner  that  my  niece  is  very  desirous  of  seeing  you  all 
before  she  leaves  the  south.  She  is  well,  and  begs  to  be 
dutifully  remembered  to  you  and  her  mother. 

"  Yours,  etc., 

"  E.  Gardiner.*' 

Mr.  Bennet  and  his  daughters  saw  all  the  advan- 
tages of  Wickham's  removal  from  the   shire, 

VOL.  n.  — 12 


178 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


as  clearly  as  Mr.  Gardiner  could  do.  But  Mrs. 
Bennet  was  not  so  well  pleased  with  it.  Lydia's 
being  settled  in  the  north,  just  when  she  had 
expected  most  pleasure  and  pride  in  her  com- 
pany, for  she  had  by  no  means  given  up  her  plan 
of  their  residing  in  Hertfordshire,  was  a  severe 
disappointment;  and,  besides,  it  was  such  a  pity 
that  Lydia  should  be  taken  from  a  regiment  where 
she  was  acquainted  with  everybody,  and  had  so 
many  favorites. 

She  is  so  fond  of  Mrs.  Forster,''  said  she,  it 
will  be  quite  shocking  to  send  her  away!  And 
there  are  several  of  the  young  men,  too,  that  she 
likes  very  much.     The  officers  may  not  be  so 

pleasant  in  General   's  regiment." 

His  daughter's  request,  for  such  it  might  be 
considered,  of  being  admitted  into  her  family 
again,  before  she  set  off  for  the  north,  received  at 
first  an  absolute  negative.  But  Jane  and  Eliza- 
beth, who  agreed  in  wishing,  for  the  sake  of  their 
sister's  feelings  and  consequence,  that  she  should 
be  noticed  on  her  marriage  by  her  parents,  urged 
him  so  earnestly,  yet  so  rationally  and  so  mildly, 
to  receive  her  and  her  husband  at  Longbourn  as 
soon  as  they  were  married,  that  he  was  prevailed 
on  to  think  as  they  thought,  and  act  as  they 
wished.  And  their  mother  had  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  she  should  be  able  to  show  her 
married  daughter  in  the  neighborhood,  before  she 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


179 


was  banished  to  the  north.  When  Mr.  Bennet 
wrote  again  to  his  brother,  therefore,  he  sent  his 
permission  for  them  to  come;  and  it  was  settled 
that  as  soon  as  the  ceremony  was  over,  they 
should  proceed  to  Longbourn.  Elizabeth  was  sur- 
prised, however,  that  Wickham  should  consent  to 
such  a  scheme;  and  had  she  consulted  only  her 
own  inclination,  any  meeting  with  him  would 
have  been  the  last  object  of  her  wiohes. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


Their  sister's  wedding-day  arrived;  and  Jane  and 
Elizabeth  felt  for  her  probably  more  than  she  felt 
for  herself.  The  carriage  was  sent  to  meet  them 
at  ,  and  they  were  to  return  in  it  by  dinner- 
time. Their  arrival  was  dreaded  by  the  elder  Miss 
Bennets;  and  Jane  more  especially,  who  gave 
Lydia  the  feelings  which  would  have  attended  her- 
self, had  she  been  the  culprit,  and  was  wretched 
in  the  thought  of  what  her  sister  must  endure. 

They  came.  The  family  were  assembled  in  the 
breakfast-room  to  receive  them.  Smiles  decked 
the  face  of  Mrs.  Bennet,  as  the  carriage  drove  up 
to  the  door;  her  husband  looked  impenetrably 
grave;  her  daughters,  alarmed,  anxious,  uneasy. 

Lydia's  voice  was  heard  in  the  vestibule;  the 
door  was  thrown  open,  and  she  ran  into  the  room. 
Her  mother  stepped  forwards,  embraced  her,  and 
welcomed  her  with  rapture;  gave  her  hand  with 
an  affectionate  smile  to  Wickham,  who  followed 
his  lady,  and  wished  them  both  joy,  with  an  alac- 
rity which  showed  no  doubt  of  their  happiness. 

Their  reception  from  Mr.  Bennet,  to  whom 
they  then  turned,  was  not  quite  so  cordial.  Hia 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


181 


countenance  rather  gained  in  austerity,  and  he 
scarcely  opened  his  lips.  The  easy  assurance  of 
the  young  couple,  indeed,  was  enough  to  provoke 
him.  Elizabeth  was  disgusted,  and  even  Miss 
Bennet  was  shocked.  Lydia  was  Lydia  still;  un- 
tamed, unabashed,  wild,  noisy,  and  fearless.  She 
turned  from  sister  to  sister,  demanding  their  con- 
gratulations;  and  when  at  length  they  all  sat 
down,  looked  eagerly  round  the  room,  took  notice 
of  some  little  alteration  in  it,  and  observed,  with 
a  laugh,  that  it  was  a  great  while  since  she  had 
been  there. 

Wickham  was  not  at  all  more  distressed  than 
herself;  but  his  manners  were  always  so  pleasing 
that  had  his  character  and  his  marriage  been  ex- 
actly what  they  ought,  his  smiles  and  his  easy 
address,  while  he  claimed  their  relationship,  would 
have  delighted  them  all.  Elizabeth  had  not  before 
believed  him  quite  equal  to  such  assurance;  but 
she  sat  down,  resolving  within  herself  to  draw  no 
limits  in  future  to  the  impudence  of  an  impudent 
man.  She  blushed,  and  Jane  blushed;  but  the 
cheeks  of  the  two  who  caused  their  confusion  suf- 
fered no  variation  of  color. 

There  was  no  want  of  discourse.  The  bride  and 
her  mother  could  neither  of  them  talk  fast  enough; 
and  Wickham,  who  happened  to  sit  near  Elizabeth, 
began  inquiring  after  his  acquaintance  in  that 
neighborhood  with   a   good-humored  ease  which 


182  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


she  felt  very  unable  to  equal  in  her  replies.  They 
seemed  each  of  them  to  have  the  happiest  memories 
in  the  world.  Nothing  of  the  past  was  recollected 
with  pain;  and  Lydia  led  voluntarily  to  subjects 
which  her  sisters  would  not  have  alluded  to  for 
the  world. 

*^Only  think  of  its  being  three  months/'  she 
cried,  since  I  went  away:  it  seems  but  a  fort- 
night, I  declare;  and  yet  there  have  been  things 
enough  happened  in  the  time.  Good  gracious! 
when  I  went  away,  I  am  sure  I  had  no  more 
idea  of  being  married  till  I  came  back  again! 
though  I  thought  it  would  be  very  good  fun  if  I 
was.'' 

Her  father  lifted  up  his  eyes,  Jane  was  dis- 
tressed, Elizabeth  looked  expressively  at  Lydia; 
but  she,  who  never  heard  nor  saw  anything  of 
which  she  chose  to  be  insensible,  gayly  continued : 

Oh,  mamma,  do  the  people  hereabouts  know  I 
am  married  to-day?  I  was  afraid  they  might  not; 
and  we  overtook  William  Goulding  in  his  curricle, 
so  I  was  determined  he  should  know  it,  and  so  I 
let  down  the  side  glass  next  to  him,  and  took  off 
my  glove,  and  let  my  hand  just  rest  upon  the  win- 
dow-frame, so  that  he  might  see  the  ring,  and  then 
I  bowed  and  smiled  like  anything." 

Elizabeth  could  bear  it  no  longer.  She  got  up 
and  ran  out  of  the  room;  and  returned  no  more 
till  she  heard  them  passing  through  the  hall  to  the 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


183 


dining-parlor.  She  then  joined  them  soon  enough 
to  see  Lydia,  with  anxious  parade,  walk  up  to  her 
mother's  right  hand,  and  hear  her  say  to  her 
eldest  sister,  Ah,  Jane,  I  take  your  place  now, 
and  you  must  go  lower,  because  I  am  a  married 
woman." 

It  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  time  would  give 
Lydia  that  embarrassment  from  which  she  had 
been  so  wholly  free  at  first.  Her  ease  and  good 
spirits  increased.  She  longed  to  see  Mrs.  Philips, 
the  Lucases,  and  all  their  other  neighbors,  and  to 
hear  herself  called  ''Mrs.  Wickham^'  by  each  of 
fchemj  and  in  the  mean  time  she  went  after  dinner 
to  show  her  ring  and  boast  of  being  married  to 
Mrs.  Hill  and  the  two  housemaids. 

''Well,  mamma,"  said  she,  when  they  were  all 
returned  to  the  breakfast-room,  ' '  and  what  do  you 
think  of  my  husband?  Is  not  he  a  charming  man? 
I  am  sure  my  sisters  must  all  envy  me.  I  only 
hope  they  may  have  half  my  good  luck.  They 
must  all  go  to  Brighton.  That  is  the  place  to  get 
husbands.  What  a  pity  it  is,  mamma,  we  did  not 
all  go! 

"Very  true;  and  if  I  had  my  will,  we  should. 
But,  my  dear  Lydia,  I  don't  at  all  like  your  going 
such  a  way  off.    Must  it  be  so? 

"Oh,  Lord!  yes;  there  is  nothing  in  that.  I 
shall  like  it  of  all  things.  You  and  papa  and  my 
sisters  must  come  down  and  see  us.    We  shall  be 


184 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


at  Newcastle  all  the  winter,  and  I  dare  say  there 
will  he  some  halls,  and  I  will  take  care  to  get  good 
partners  for  them  all.'' 

should  like  it  heyond  anything!  "  said  her 
mother. 

^^And  then  when  you  go  away,  you  may  leave 
one  or  two  of  my  sisters  hehind  you;  and  I  dare 
say  I  shall  get  hushands  for  them  hefore  the  winter 
is  over." 

^^I  thank  you  for  my  share  of  the  favor,"  said 
Elizabeth ;  ^^but  I  do  not  particularly  like  your 
way  of  getting  hushands." 

Their  visitors  were  not  to  remain  above  ten  days 
with  them.  Mr.  Wickham  had  received  his  com- 
mission before  he  left  London,  and  he  was  to  join 
his  regiment  at  the  end  of  a  fortnight. 

No  one  but  Mrs.  Bennet  regretted  that  their 
stay  would  be  so  short;  and  she  made  the  most  of 
the  time  by  visiting  about  with  her  daughter,  and 
having  very  frequent  parties  at  home.  These 
parties  were  acceptable  to  all;  to  avoid  a  family 
circle  was  even  more  desirable  to  such  as  did  think 
than  such  as  did  not. 

Wickham's  affection  for  Lydia  was  just  what 
Elizabeth  had  expected  to  find  it,  — not  equal  to 
Lydia's  for  him.  She  had  scarcely  needed  her 
present  observation  to  be  satisfied,  from  the  reason 
of  things,  that  their  elopement  had  been  brought 
on  by  the  strength  of  her  love  rather  than  by  hisj 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  185 


and  she  would  have  wondered  why,  without  vio- 
lently caring  for  her,  he  chose  to  elope  with  her 
at  all,  had  she  not  felt  certain  that  his  flight  was 
rendered  necessary  by  distress  of  circumstances; 
and  if  that  were  the  case,  he  was  not  the 
young  man  to  resist  an  opportunity  of  having  a 
companion. 

Lydia  was  exceedingly  fond  of  him.  He  was 
her  dear  Wickham  on  every  occasion;  no  one  was 
to  be  put  in  competition  with  him.  He  did  every- 
thing best  in  the  world;  and  she  was  sure  he 
would  kill  more  birds  on  the  first  of  September 
than  anybody  else  in  the  country. 

One  morning,  soon  after  their  arrival,  as  she 
was  sitting  with  her  two  elder  sisters,  she  said  to 
Elizabeth,  — 

Lizzy,  I  never  gave  you  an  account  of  my 
wedding,  I  believe.  You  were  not  by,  when  I 
told  mamma  and  the  others  all  about  it.  Are 
not  you  curious  to  hear  how  it  was  managed? 

^'Ko,  really,''  replied  Elizabeth;  think 
there  cannot  be  too  little  said  on  the  subject." 

*^La!  You  are  so  strange!  But  I  must  tell  you 
how  it  went  off.  We  were  married,  you  know,  at 
St.  Clement's,  because  Wickham's  lodgings  were 
in  that  parish.  And  it  was  settled  that  we  should 
all  be  there  by  eleven  o'clock.  My  uncle  and 
aunt  and  I  were  to  go  together;  and  the  others 
were  to  meet  us  at  the  church.    Well,  Monday 


186  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


morning  came,  and  I  was  in  such  a  fuss!  I  was 
so  afraid,  you  know,  that  something  would  happen 
to  put  it  off,  and  then  I  should  have  gone  quite 
distracted.  And  there  was  my  aunt,  all  the  time 
I  was  dressing,  preaching  and  talking  away  just  as 
if  she  was  reading  a  sermon.  However,  I  did  not 
hear  above  one  word  in  ten,  for  I  was  thinking, 
you  may  suppose,  of  my  dear  Wickham.  I  longed 
to  know  whether  he  would  be  married  in  his  blue 
coat. 

Well,  and  so  we  breakfasted  at  ten  as  usual: 
I  thought  it  would  never  be  over;  for  by  the  by 
you  are  to  understand  that  my  uncle  and  aunt 
were  horrid  unpleasant  all  the  time  I  was  with 
them.  If  you  '11  believe  me,  I  did  not  once  put 
my  foot  out  of  doors,  though  I  was  there  a  fort- 
night. Not  one  party  or  scheme,  or  anything. 
To  be  sure,  London  was  rather  thin ;  but,  however, 
the  Little  Theatre  was  open.  Well,  and  so  just 
as  the  carriage  came  to  the  door,  my  uncle  was 
called  away  upon  business  to  that  horrid  man  Mr. 
Stone.  And  then,  you  know,  when  once  they  get 
together,  there  is  no  end  of  it.  Well,  I  was  so 
frightened  I  did  not  know  what  to  do,  for  my 
uncle  was  to  give  me  away;  and  if  we  were  beyond 
the  hour  we  could  not  be  married  all  day.  But, 
luckily,  he  came  back  again  in  ten  minutes'  time, 
and  then  we  all  set  out.  However,  I  recollected 
afterwards,  that  if  he  had  been  prevented  going. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  187 


the  wedding  need  not  "be  put  off,  for  Mr.  Darcy 
might  have  done  as  well.'' 

'^Mr.  Darcy!''  repeated  Elizabeth,  in  utter 
amazement. 

*'0h,  yes!  he  was  to  come  there  with  Wickham, 
you  know.  But,  gracious  me !  I  quite  forgot !  I 
ouglit  not  to  have  said  a  word  about  it.  I  prom- 
ised them  so  faithfully!  What  will  Wickham 
say?    It  was  to  be  such  a  secret!  " 

If  it  was  to  be  a  secret,"  said  Jane,  say  not 
another  word  on  the  subject.  You  may  depend 
upon  my  seeking  no  further." 

^'Oh,  certainly,"  said  Elizabeth,  though  burning 
with  curiosity;  ^^we  will  ask  you  no  questions." 

Thank  you,"  said  Lydia;  ^'for  if  you  did,  I 
should  certainly  tell  you  all,  and  then  Wickham 
would  be  so  angry." 

On  such  encouragement  to  ask,  Elizabeth  was 
forced  to  put  it  out  of  her  power,  by  running 
away. 

But  to  live  in  ignorance  on  such  a  point  was  im- 
possible; or  at  least  it  was  impossible  not  to  try 
for  information.  Mr.  Darcy  had  been  at  her  sis- 
ter's wedding.  It  was  exactly  a  scene,  and  ex- 
actly among  people,  where  he  had  apparently  least 
to  do,  and  least  temptation  to  go.  Conjectures  as 
to  the  meaning  of  it,  rapid  and  wild,  hurried  into 
her  brain,  but  she  was  satisfied  with  none.  Those 
that  best  pleased  her,  as  placing  his  conduct  in 


188  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


the  noblest  light,  seemed  most  improbable.  She 
could  not  bear  such  suspense ;  and  hastily  seizing 
a  sheet  of  paper,  wrote  a  short  letter  to  her  aunt, 
to  request  an  explanation  of  what  Lydia  had 
dropped,  if  it  were  compatible  with  the  secrecy 
which  had  been  intended. 

"  You  may  readily  comprehend,"  she  added,  "  what 
my  curiosity  must  be  to  know  how  a  person  unconnected 
with  any  of  us,  and,  comparatively  speaking,  a  stranger 
to  our  family,  should  have  been  amongst  you  at  such  a 
time.  Pray  write  instantly,  and  let  me  understand  it,  — 
unless  it  is,  for  very  cogent  reasons,  to  remain  in  the 
secrecy  which  Lydia  seems  to  think  necessary ;  and  then 
I  must  endeavor  to  be  satisfied  with  ignorance." 

"Not  that  I  shall,  though,"  she  added  to  her- 
self, as  she  finished  the  letter;  "and,  my  dear 
aunt,  if  you  do  not  tell  me  in  an  honorable  man- 
ner, I  shall  certainly  be  reduced  to  tricks  and 
stratagems  to  find  it  out." 

Jane's  delicate  sense  of  honor  would  not  allow 
her  to  speak  to  Elizabeth  privately  of  what  Lydia 
had  let  fall.  Elizabeth  was  glad  of  it;  till 
it  appeared  whether  her  inquiries  would  receive 
any  satisfaction,  she  had  rather  be  without  a 
confidante. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Elizabeth  had  the  satisfaction  of  receiving  an 
answer  to  her  letter  as  soon  as  she  possibly  could. 
She  was  no  sooner  in  possession  of  it,  than  hurry- 
ing into  the  little  copse,  where  she  was  least  likely 
to  be  interrupted,  she  sat  down  on  one  of  the 
benches,  and  prepared  to  be  happy ;  for  the  length 
of  the  letter  convinced  her  that  it  did  not  contain 
a  denial. 

Gracechurch  Street,  Sept.  6. 
My  dear  Niece, — I  have  just  received  your  let- 
ter, and  shall  devote  this  whole  morning  to  answering  it, 
as  I  foresee  that  a  little  writing  will  not  comprise  what  I 
have  to  tell  you.  I  must  confess  myself  surprised  by 
your  application ;  I  did  not  expect  it  from  you.  Don't 
think  me  angry,  however,  for  I  only  mean  to  let  you 
know  that  I  had  not  imagined  such  inquiries  to  be  neces- 
sary on  your  side.  If  you  do  not  choose  to  understand 
me,  forgive  my  impertinence.  Your  uncle  is  as  much 
surprised  as  I  am;  and  nothing  but  the  belief  of  your 
being  a  party  concerned  would  have  allowed  him  to  act 
as  he  has  done.  But  if  you  are  really  innocent  and  igno- 
rant, I  must  be  more  explicit.  On  the  very  day  of  my 
coming  home  from  Longbourn,  your  uncle  had  a  most  un- 
expected visitor.  Mr.  Darcy  called,  and  was  shut  up 
with  him  several  hours.  It  was  all  over  before  I  ar- 
rived ;  so  my  curiosity  was  not  so  dreadfully  racked  as 


190  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


yours  seems  to  have  been.  He  came  to  tell  Mr.  Gar- 
diner that  he  had  found  out  where  your  sister  and  Mr. 
Wickham  were,  and  that  he  had  seen  and  talked  with 
them  both,  —  Wickham  repeatedly,  Lydia  once.  From 
what  I  can  collect,  he  left  Derbyshire  only  one  day  after 
ourselves,  and  came  to  town  with  the  resolution  of  hunt- 
ing for  them.  The  motive  professed  was  his  conviction 
of  its  being  owing  to  himself  that  Wickham's  worthless- 
ness  had  not  been  so  well  known  as  to  make  it  impossible 
for  any  young  woman  of  character  to  love  or  confide  in 
him.  Pie  generously  imputed  the  whole  to  his  mistaken 
pride,  and  confessed  that  he  had  before  thought  it  be- 
neath him  to  lay  his  private  actions  open  to  the  world. 
His  character  was  to  speak  for  itself.  He  called  it, 
therefore,  his  duty  to  step  forward,  and  endeavor  to  rem- 
edy an  evil  which  had  been  brought  on  by  himself.  If  he 
had  another  motive,  I  am  sure  it  would  never  disgrace 
him.  He  had  been  some  days  in  town  before  he  was 
able  to  discover  them;  but  he  had  something  to  direct 
his  search,  which  was  more  than  we  had  ;  and  the  con- 
sciousness of  this  was  another  reason  for  his  resolving  to 
follow  us.  There  is  a  lady,  it  seems,  a  Mrs.  Younge,  who 
was  some  time  ago  governess  to  Miss  Darcy,  and  was 
dismissed  from  her  charge  on  some  cause  of  disapproba- 
tion, though  he  did  not  say  what.  She  then  took  a  large 
house  in  Edward  Street,  and  has  since  maintained  herself 
by  letting  lodgings.  This  Mrs.  Younge  was,  he  knew, 
intimately  acquainted  with  Wickham ;  and  he  went  to 
her  for  intelligence  of  him,  as  soon  as  he  got  to  town. 
But  it  was  two  or  three  days  before  he  could  get  from 
her  what  he  wanted.  She  would  not  betray  her  trust,  I 
suppose,  without  bribery  and  corruption,  for  she  really 
did  know  where  her  friend  was  to  be  found.  Wickham, 
indeed,  had  gone  to  her  on  their  first  arrival  in  London, 
and  had  she  been  able  to  receive  them  into  her  house, 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


191 


they  would  have  taken  up  their  abode  with  her.  At 
length,  however,  our  kind  friend  procured  the  wished-for 
direction.  They  were  in  Street.  He  saw  Wick- 
ham,  and  afterwards  insisted  on  seeing  Lydia.  His  first 
object  with  her,  he  acknowledged,  had  been  to  persuade 
her  to  quit  her  present  disgraceful  situation,  and  return 
to  her  friends  as  soon  as  they  could  be  prevailed  on  to 
receive  her,  offering  his  assistance  as  far  as  it  would  go. 
But  he  found  Lydia  absolutely  resolved  on  remaining 
where  she  was.  She  cared  for  none  of  her  friends ;  she 
wanted  no  help  of  his ;  she  would  not  hear  of  leaving 
Wickham.  She  was  sure  they  should  be  married  some 
time  or  other,  and  it  did  not  much  signify  when.  Since 
such  were  her  feelings,  it  only  remained,  he  thought,  to 
secure  and  expedite  a  marriage,  which,  in  his  very  first 
conversation  with  Wickham,  he  easily  learned  had  never 
been  his  design.  He  confessed  himself  obliged  to  leave 
the  regiment  on  account  of  some  debts  of  honor  which 
were  very  pressing ;  and  scrupled  not  to  lay  all  the  ill 
consequences  of  Lydia's  flight  on  her  own  folly  alone. 
He  meant  to  resign  his  commission  immediately ;  and  as 
to  his  future  situation,  he  could  conjecture  very  little 
about  it.  He  must  go  somewhere,  but  he  did  not  know 
where,  and  he  knew  he  should  have  nothing  to  live  on. 
Mr.  Darcy  asked  why  he  did  not  marry  your  sister  at 
once.  Though  Mr.  Bennet  was  not  imagined  to  be  very 
rich,  he  would  have  been  able  to  do  something  for  him, 
and  his  situation  must  have  been  benefited  by  marriage. 
But  he  found,  in  reply  to  this  question,  that  Wickham 
still  cherished  the  hope  of  more  effectually  making  his 
fortune  by  marriage  in  some  other  country.  Under  such 
circumstances,  however,  he  was  not  likely  to  be  proof 
against  the  temptation  of  immediate  relief.  They  met 
several  times,  for  there  was  much  to  be  discussed.  Wick- 
ham, of  course,  wanted  more  than  he  could  get,  but  at 


192  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


length  was  reduced  to  be  reasonable.  Everything  being 
settled  between  them,  Mr.  Darcy's  next  step  was  to 
make  your  uncle  acquainted  with  it,  and  he  first  called 
in  Gracechurch  Street  the  evening  before  I  came  home. 
But  Mr.  Gardiner  could  not  be  seen;  and  Mr.  Darcy 
found,  on  further  inquiry,  that  your  father  was  still  with 
him,  but  would  quit  town  the  next  morning.  He  did  not 
judge  your  father  to  be  a  person  whom  he  could  so  prop- 
erly consult  as  your  uncle,  and  therefore  readily  post- 
poned seeing  him  till  after  the  departure  of  the  former. 
He  did  not  leave  his  name,  and  till  the  next  day  it  was 
only  known  that  a  gentleman  had  called  on  business. 
On  Saturday  he  came  again.  Your  father  was  gone, 
your  uncle  at  home,  and,  as  I  said  before,  they  had  a 
great  deal  of  talk  together.  They  met  again  on  Sunday, 
and  then  I  saw  him  too.  It  was  not  all  settled  before 
Monday ;  as  soon  as  it  was,  the  express  was  sent  off  to 
Longbourn.  But  our  visitor  was  very  obstinate.  I 
fancy,  Lizzy,  that  obstinacy  is  the  real  defect  of  his  char- 
acter, after  all.  He  has  been  accused  of  many  faults  at 
different  times ;  but  this  is  the  true  one.  Nothing  was 
to  be  done  that  he  did  not  do  himself ;  though  I  am  sure 
(and  I  do  not  speak  it  to  be  thanked,  therefore  say  noth- 
ing about  it)  your  uncle  would  most  readily  have  settled 
the  whole.  They  battled  it  together  for  a  long  time, 
which  was  more  than  either  the  gentleman  or  lady  con- 
cerned in  it  deserved.  But  at  last  your  uncle  was  forced 
to  yield,  and  instead  of  being  allowed  to  be  of  use  to  his 
niece,  was  forced  to  put  up  with  only  having  the  probable 
credit  of  it,  which  went  sorely  against  the  grain ;  and  I 
really  believe  your  letter  this  morning  gave  him  great 
pleasure,  because  it  required  an  explanation  that  would 
rob  him  of  his  borrowed  feathers,  and  give  the  praise 
where  it  was  due.  But,  Lizzy,  this  must  go  no  further 
than  yourself,  or  Jane  at  most.    You  know  pretty  well,  I 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


193 


suppose,  what  has  been  done  for  the  young  people.  His 
debts  are  to  be  paid,  amounting,  I  beUeve,  to  considerably 
more  than  a  thousand  pounds,  another  thousand  in  addi- 
tion to  her  own  settled  upon  her,  and  his  commission 
purchased.  The  reason  why  all  this  was  to  be  done  by 
him  alone  was  such  as  I  have  given  above.  It  was 
owing  to  him,  to  his  reserve  and  want  of  proper  consid- 
eration, that  Wickham's  character  had  been  so  misunder- 
stood, and  consequently  that  he  had  been  received  and 
noticed  as  he  was.  Perhaps  there  was  some  truth  in 
this ;  though  I  doubt  whether  his  reserve  or  anybody's 
reserve  can  be  answerable  for  the  event.  But  in  spite  of 
all  this  fine  talking,  my  dear  Lizzy,  you  may  rest  per- 
fectly assured  that  your  uncle  would  never  have  yielded, 
if  we  had  not  given  him  credit  for  another  interest  in  the 
affair.  When  all  this  was  resolved  on,  he  returned  again 
to  his  friends,  who  were  still  staying  at  Pemberley ;  but 
it  was  agreed  that  he  should  be  in  London  once  more 
when  the  wedding  took  place,  and  all  money  matters  were 
then  to  receive  the  last  finish.  I  believe  I  have  now  told 
you  everything.  It  is  a  relation  which  you  tell  me  is  to 
give  you  great  surprise ;  I  hope  at  least  it  will  not  afford 
you  any  displeasure.  Lydia  came  to  us,  and  Wickham 
had  constant  admission  to  the  house.  He  was  exactly 
what  he  had  been  when  I  knew  him  in  Llertfordshire ; 
but  I  would  not  tell  you  how  little  I  was  satisfied  with 
her  behavior  while  she  stayed  with  us,  if  I  had  not  per- 
ceived, by  Jane's  letter  last  Wednesday,  that  her  conduct 
on  coming  home  was  exactly  of  a  piece  with  it,  and  there- 
fore what  I  now  tell  you  can  give  you  no  fresh  pain.  I 
talked  to  her  repeatedly  in  the  most  serious  manner,  rep- 
resenting to  her  the  wickedness  of  what  she  had  done, 
and  all  the  unhappiness  she  had  brought  on  her  family. 
If  she  heard  me,  it  was  by  good  luck,  for  I  am  sure  she 
did  not  listen.    I  was  sometimes  quite  provoked;  but 

VOL.  II.  — 13 


194  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


then  I  recollected  my  dear  Elizabeth  and  Jane,  and  for 
their  sakes  had  patience  with  her.  Mr.  Darcy  was 
punctual  in  his  return,  and,  as  Lydia  informed  you,  at- 
tended the  wedding.  He  dined  with  us  the  next  day, 
and  was  to  leave  town  again  on  Wednesday  or  Thursday. 
Will  you  be  very  angry  with  me,  my  dear  Lizzy,  if  I  take 
this  opportunity  of  saying  (what  I  was  never  bold  enough 
to  say  before)  how  much  I  like  him?  His  behavior  to  us 
has  in  every  respect  been  as  pleasing  as  when  we  were 
in  Derbyshire.  His  understanding  and  opinions  all 
please  me :  he  wants  nothing  but  a  little  more  liveliness ; 
and  that,  if  he  marry  prudently,  his  wife  may  teach  him, 
I  thought  him  very  sly ;  he  hardly  ever  mentioned  your 
name.  But  slyness  seems  the  fashion.  Pray  forgive  me, 
if  I  have  been  very  presuming,  or  at  least  do  not  punish 
me  so  far  as  to  exclude  me  from  P.  I  shall  never  be 
quite  happy  till  I  have  been  all  round  the  park.  A  low 
phaeton  with  a  nice  little  pair  of  ponies  would  be  the 
very  thing.  But  I  must  write  no  more.  The  children 
have  been  wanting  me  this  half  hour. 

Yours,  very  sincerely, 

M.  Gardiner. 

The  contents  of  this  letter  threw  Elizabeth  into 
a  flutter  of  spirits,  in  which  it  was  difficult  to 
determine  whether  pleasure  or  pain  bore  the  great- 
est share.  The  vague  and  unsettled  suspicions 
which  uncertainty  had  produced  of  what  Mr. 
Darcy  might  have  been  doing  to  forward  her 
sister's  match  which  she  had  feared  to  encourage, 
as  an  exertion  of  goodness  too  great  to  be  prob- 
able, and  at  the  same  time  dreaded  to  be  just, 
from  the  pain  of  obligation,  were  proved  beyond 


PRIDE  AND;  rKEJUDICE. 


195 


their  greatest  extent  to  be  true !  He  had  followed 
them  purposely  to  town,  he  had  taken  on  himself 
all  the  trouble  and  mortification  attendant  on 
such  a  research;  in  which  supplication  had  been 
necessary  to  a  woman  whom  he  must  abominate 
and  despise,  and  where  he  was  reduced  to  meet, 
frequently  meet,  reason  with,  persuade,  and  fi- 
nally bribe  the  man  whom  he  always  most  wished 
to  avoid,  and  whose  very  name  it  was  punishment 
to  him  to  pronounce.  He  had  done  all  this  for 
a  girl  whom  he  could  neither  regard  nor  esteem. 
Her  heart  did  whisper  that  he  had  done  it  for 
her.  But  it  was  a  hope  shortly  checked  by  other 
considerations;  and  she  soon  felt  that  even  her 
vanity  was  insufficient,  when  required  to  depend 
on  his  affection  for  her,  for  a  woman  who  had 
already  refused  him,  as  able  to  overcome  a  senti- 
ment so  natural  as  abhorrence  against  relation- 
ship with  Wickham.  Brother-in-law  of  Wickham ! 
Every  kind  of  pride  must  revolt  from  the  connec- 
tion. He  had,  to  be  sure,  done  much,  —  she  was 
ashamed  to  think  how  much;  but  he  had  given 
a  reason  for  his  interference,  which  asked  no  ex- 
traordinary stretch  of  belief.  It  was  reasonable 
that  he  should  feel  he  had  been  wrong;  he  had 
liberality,  and  he  had  the  means  of  exercising 
it ;  and  though  she  would  not  place  herself  as  his 
principal  inducement,  she  could  perhaps  believe 
that  remaining  partiality  for  her  might  assist  his 


196 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


endeavors  in  a  cause  where  her  peace  of  mind 
must  be  materially  concerned.  It  was  painful, 
exceedingly  painful,  to  know  that  they  were  under 
obligations  to  a  person  who  could  never  receive 
a  return.  They  owed  the  restoration  of  Lydia, 
her  character,  everything  to  him.  Oh,  how  heart- 
ily did  she  grieve  over  every  ungracious  sensation 
she  had  ever  encouraged,  every  saucy  speech  she 
had  ever  directed  towards  him!  For  herself  she 
was  humbled ;  but  she  was  proud  of  him,  —  proud 
that  in  a  cause  of  compassion  and  honor  he  had 
been  able  to  get  the  better  of  himself.  She  read 
over  her  aunt's  commendation  of  him  again  and 
again.  It  was  hardly  enough;  but  it  pleased  her. 
She  was  even  sensible  of  some  pleasure,  though 
mixed  with  regret,  on  finding  how  steadfastly 
both  she  and  her  uncle  had  been  persuaded  that 
affection  and  confidence  subsisted  between  Mr. 
Darcy  and  herself. 

She  was  roused  from  her  seat  and  her  reflec- 
tions by  some  one's  approach;  and  before  she 
could  strike  into  another  path,  she  was  overtaken 
by  Wickham. 

'^I  am  afraid  I  interrupt  your  solitary  ramble, 
my  dear  sister?''  said  he,  as  he  joined  her. 

*^You  certainly  do,"  she  replied  with  a  smile; 
'*but  it  does  not  follow  that  the  interruption 
must  be  unwelcome." 

should  be  sorry,  indeed,  if  it  were.  We 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


197 


were  always  good  friends,  and  now  we  are 
better." 

^^True.    Are  the  others  coming  out?" 

do  not  know.  Mrs.  Bennet  and  Lydia  are 
going  in  the  carriage  to  Meryton.  And  so,  my 
dear  sister,  I  find,  from  our  uncle  and  aunt,  that 
you  have  actually  seen  Pemberley." 

She  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

'^I  almost  envy  you  the  pleasure,  and  yet  I 
believe  it  would  be  too  much  for  me,  or  else  I 
could  take  it  in  my  way  to  Newcastle.  And  you 
saw  the  old  housekeeper,  I  suppose?  Poor  Rey- 
nolds, she  was  always  very  fond  of  me.  But  of 
course  she  did  not  mention  my  name  to  you." 

^^Yes,  she  did." 

*^And  what  did  she  say?" 

**That  you  were  gone  into  the  army,  and  she 
was  afraid  had  —  not  turned  out  well.  At  such 
a  distance  as  that,  you  know,  things  are  strangely 
misrepresented." 

Certainly,"  he  replied,  biting  his  lips.  Eliza- 
beth hoped  she  had  silenced  himj  but  he  soon 
afterwards  said, — 

^'1  was  surprised  to  see  Darcy  in  town  last 
month.  We  passed  each  other  several  times.  I 
wonder  what  he  can  be  doing  there." 

Perhaps  preparing  for  his  marriage  with  Miss 
de  Bourgh,"  said  Elizabeth.  *'It  must  be  some- 
thing particular  to  take  him  there  at  this  time 
of  year." 


198  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


'^Undoubtedly.  Did  you  see  him  while  you 
were  at  Lambton?  I  thought  I  understood  from 
the  Gardiners  that  you  had.'* 

Yes;  he  introduced  us  to  his  sister. 

And  do  you  like  her? 

Very  much." 

I  have  heard,  indeed,  that  she  is  uncommonly 
improved  within  this  year  or  two.  When  I  last 
saw  her,  she  was  not  very  promising.  I  am  very 
glad  you  liked  her.  I  hope  she  will  turn  out 
well." 

I  dare  say  she  will;  she  has  got  over  the  most 
trying  age." 

Did  you  go  by  the  village  of  Kympton? 
'^I  do  not  recollect  that  we  did.'' 

I  mention  it  because  it  is  the  living  which  I 
ought  to  have  had.  A  most  delightful  place! 
Excellent  parsonage  house!  It  would  have  suited 
me  in  every  respect." 

How  should  you  have  liked  making  sermons?  " 

Exceedingly  well.  I  should  have  considered 
it  as  part  of  my  duty,  and  the  exertion  would  soon 
have  been  nothing.  One  ought  not  to  repine ;  but, 
to  be  sure,  it  would  have  been  such  a  thing  for 
me !  The  quiet,  the  retirement  of  such  a  life  would 
have  answered  all  my  ideas  of  happiness!  But  it 
was  not  to  be.  Did  you  ever  hear  Darcy  mention 
the  circumstance  when  you  were  in  Kent?  " 

**I  have  heard  from  authority,  which  I  thought 


PRIDE  AND  TREJUDICE. 


199 


as  good,  that  it  was  left  you  conditionally  only, 
and  at  the  will  of  the  present  patron/' 

You  have!  Yes,  there  was  something  in  that; 
I  told  you  so  from  the  first,  you  may  remember." 

I  did  hear,  too,  that  there  was  a  time  when 
sermon-making  was  not  so  palatable  to  you  as  it 
seems  to  be  at  present;  that  you  actually  declared 
your  resolution  of  never  taking  orders,  and  that 
the  business  had  been  compromised  accordingly." 

You  did!  and  it  was  not  wholly  without  foun- 
dation. You  may  remember  what  I  told  you  on 
that  point,  when  first  we  talked  of  it.'' 

They  were  now  almost  at  the  door  of  the  house, 
for  she  had  walked  fast  to  get  rid  of  him ;  and  un^ 
willing,  for  her  sister's  sake,  to  provoke  him,  she 
only  said  in  reply,  with  a  good-humored  smile,  — 

^^Come,  Mr.  Wickham,  we  are  brother  and  sis- 
ter, you  know.  Do  not  let  us  quarrel  about  the 
past.  In  future,  I  hope,  we  shall  be  always  of  one 
mind." 

She  held  out  her  hand :  he  kissed  it  with  affec- 
tionate gallantry,  though  he  hardly  knew  how  to 
look;  and  they  entered  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Mr.  Wickham  was  so  perfectly  satisfied  with  this 
conversation  that  he  never  again  distressed  him- 
self, or  provoked  his  dear  sister  Elizaheth,  hy  in- 
troducing the  suhject  of  it;  and  she  was  pleased 
to  find  that  she  had  said  enough  to  keep  him 
quiet. 

The  day  of  his  and  Lydia's  departure  soon  came, 
and  Mrs.  Bennet  was  forced  to  suhmit  to  a  separa- 
tion, which,  as  her  husband  by  no  means  entered 
into  her  scheme  of  their  all  going  to  Newcastle, 
was  likely  to  continue  at  least  a  twelvemonth. 

*^0h,  my  dear  Lydia,"  she  cried,  ^'when  shall 
we  meet  again?  " 

*^0h.  Lord!  I  don't  know.  Not  these  two  or 
three  years,  perhaps." 

"Write  to  me  very  often,  my  dear.'' 

*^As  often  as  I  can.  But  you  know  married 
women  have  never  much  time  for  writing.  My 
sisters  may  write  to  me.  They  will  have  nothing 
else  to  do." 

Mr.  Wickham's  adieus  were  much  more  affec- 
tionate than  his  wife's.  He  smiled,  looked  hand- 
some, and  said  many  pretty  things. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


201 


''He  is  as  fine  a  fellow, said  Mr.  Ben  net,  as 
soon  as  they  were  out  of  the  house,  as  ever  I  saw. 
He  simpers,  and  smirks,  and  makes  love  to  us  all. 
I  am  prodigiously  proud  of  him.  I  defy  even  Sir 
William  Lucas  himself  to  produce  a  more  valuable 
son-in-law.*' 

The  loss  of  her  daughter  made  Mrs.  Bennet  very 
dull  for  several  days. 

often  think, said  she,  ^Uhat  there  is  noth* 
ing  so  bad  as  parting  with  one's  friends.  One 
seems  so  forlorn  without  them." 

^^This  is  the  consequence  you  see,  madam,  of 
marrying  a  daughter,"  said  Elizabeth.  ^^It  must 
make  you  better  satisfied  that  your  other  four  are 
single." 

It  is  no  such  thing.  Lydia  does  not  leave  me 
because  she  is  married,  but  only  because  her  hus- 
band's regiment  happens  to  be  so  far  off.  If  that 
bad  been  nearer,  she  would  not  have  gone  so  soon." 

But  the  spiritless  condition  which  this  event 
threw  her  into  was  shortly  relieved,  and  her  mind 
opened  again  to  the  agitation  of  hope,  by  an  article 
of  news  which  then  began  to  be  in  circulation. 
The  housekeeper  at  Ketherfield  had  received  orders 
to  prepare  for  the  arrival  of  her  master,  who  was 
coming  down  in  a  day  or  two,  to  shoot  there  for 
several  weeks.  Mrs.  Bennet  was  quite  in  the 
fidgets.  She  looked  at  Jane,  and  smiled,  and 
shook  her  head,  by  turns. 


202  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


'^Well,  well,  and  so  Mr.  Bingley  is  coming 
down,  sister,''  for  Mrs.  Philips  first  brought  her 
the  news.  Well,  so  much  the  better.  Not  that 
I  care  about  it,  though.  He  is  nothing  to  us,  you 
know,  and  I  am  sure  I  never  want  to  see  him  again. 
But,  however,  he  is  very  welcome  to  come  to 
Netherfield,  if  he  likes  it.  And  who  knows  what 
may  happen?  But  that  is  nothing  to  us.  You 
know,  sister,  we  agreed  long  ago  never  to  mention 
a  word  about  it.  And  so  it  is  quite  certain  he  is 
coming?  " 

*^You  may  depend  on  it,"  replied  the  other, 
*'for  Mrs.  Nichols  was  in  Meryton  last  night:  I 
saw  her  passing  by,  and  went  out  myself  on  pur- 
pose to  know  the  truth  of  it;  and  she  told  me  that 
it  was  certainly  true.  He  comes  down  on  Thurs- 
day, at  the  latest ;  very  likely  on  Wednesday.  She 
was  going  to  the  butcher's,  she  told  me,  on  pur- 
pose to  order  in  some  meat  on  Wednesday,  and 
she  has  got  three  couple  of  ducks  just  fit  to  be 
killed." 

Miss  Bennet  had  not  been  able  to  hear  of  his 
coming  without  changing  color.  It  was  many 
months  since  she  had  mentioned  his  name  to  Eliza- 
beth ;  but  now,  as  soon  as  they  were  alone  together, 
she  said,  — 

'^I  saw  you  look  at  me  to-day,  Lizzy,  when  my 
aunt  told  us  of  the  present  report,  and  I  know  I 
appeared  distressed;  but  don't  imagine  it  was  from 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


203 


any  silly  cause.  I  was  only  confused  for  the  mo- 
ment, because  I  felt  that  I  should  be  looked  at.  I 
do  assure  you  that  the  news  does  not  affect  me 
either  with  pleasure  or  pain.  I  am  glad  of  one 
thing,  that  he  comes  alone;  because  we  shall  see 
the  less  of  him.  ISTot  that  I  am  afraid  of  myself, 
but  I  dread  other  people^s  remarks." 

Elizabeth  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  it.  Had 
she  not  seen  him  in  Derbyshire,  she  might  have 
supposed  him  capable  of  coming  there  with  no 
other  view  than  what  was  acknowledged;  but  she 
still  thought  him  partial  to  Jane,  and  she  wavered 
as  to  the  greater  probability  of  his  coming  there 
with  his  friend's  permission,  or  being  bold  enough 
to  come  without  it. 

Yet  it  is  hard,''  she  sometimes  thought,  that 
this  poor  man  cannot  come  to  a  house  which  he 
has  legally  hired,  without  raising  all  this  specula- 
tion!   I  will  leave  him  to  himself." 

In  spite  of  what  her  sister  declared  and  really 
believed  to  be  her  feelings  in  the  expectation  of 
his  arrival,  Elizabeth  could  easily  perceive  that 
her  spirits  were  affected  by  it.  They  were  more 
disturbed,  more  unequal,  than  she  had  often  seen 
them. 

The  subject  which  had  been  so  warmly  canvassed 
between  their  parents  about  a  twelvemonth  ago 
was  now  brought  forward  again. 

*'As   soon  as  ever   Mr.    Bingley  comes,  my 


204  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


dear,"  said  Mrs.  Bennet,  '^you  will  wait  on  him 
of  course.'' 

No,  no.  You  forced  me  into  visiting  him  last 
year,  and  promised,  if  I  went  to  see  him,  he  should 
marry  one  of  my  daughters;  but  it  ended  in 
nothing,  and  I  will  not  be  sent  on  a  fool's  errand 
again." 

His  wife  represented  to  him  how  absolutely 
necessary  such  an  attention  would  be  from  all 
the  neighboring  gentlemen,  on  his  returning  to 
Netherfield. 

^"Tis  an  etiquette  I  despise,"  said  he.  *^If 
he  wants  our  society,  let  him  seek  it.  He  knows 
where  we  live.  I  will  not  spend  my  hours  in  run- 
ning after  my  neighbors  every  time  they  go  away 
and  come  back  again." 

Well,  all  I  know  is  that  it  will  be  abominably 
rude  if  you  do  not  wait  on  him.  But,  however, 
that  sha'n't  prevent  my  asking  him  to  dine  here,  I 
am  determined.  We  must  have  Mrs.  Long  and 
the  Gouldings  soon.  That  will  make  thirteen 
with  ourselves;  so  there  will  be  just  room  at  table 
for  him." 

Consoled  by  this  resolution,  she  was  the  better 
able  to  bear  her  husband's  incivility;  though  it  was 
verj^  mortifying  to  know  tliat  her  neighbors  might 
all  see  Mr.  Bingley  in  consequence  of  it  before  they 
did.    As  the  day  of  his  arrival  drew  near,  — 

begin  to  be  sorry  that  he  comes  at  all,"  said 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


205 


Jane  to  her  sister.  ^'It  would  be  nothing;  I 
could  see  him  with  perfect  indifference,  but  I  can 
hardly  bear  to  hear  it  thus  perpetually  talked  of. 
My  mother  means  well;  but  she  does  not  know, 
no  one  can  know,  how  much  I  suffer  from  what 
she  says.  Happy  shall  I  be  when  his  stay  at 
Netherfield  is  over !  " 

wish  I  could  say  anything  to  comfort  you,'' 
replied  Elizabeth;  ^'but  it  is  wholly  out  of  my 
power.  You  must  feel  it;  and  the  usual  satisfac- 
tion of  preaching  patience  to  a  sufferer  is  denied 
me,  because  you  have  always  so  much." 

Mr.  Bingley  arrived.  Mrs.  Bennet,  through 
the  assistance  of  servants,  contrived  to  have  the 
earliest  tidings  of  it,  that  the  period  of  anxiety 
and  fretfulness  on  her  side  might  be  as  long  as  it 
could.  She  counted  the  days  that  must  intervene 
before  their  invitation  could  be  sent;  hopeless  of 
seeing  him  before.  But  on  the  third  morning 
after  his  arrival  in  Hertfordshire  she  saw  him 
from  her  dressing-room  window  enter  the  paddock, 
and  ride  towards  the  house. 

Her  daughters  were  eagerly  called  to  partake  of 
her  joy.  Jane  resolutely  kept  her  place  at  the 
table;  but  Elizabeth,  to  satisfy  her  mother,  went 
to  the  window,  —  she  looked,  —  she  saw  Mr.  Darcy 
with  him,  and  sat  down  again  by  her  sister. 

There  is  a  gentleman  with  him,  mamma,'' 
said  Kitty;   ''who  can  it  be?" 


206 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


^^Some  acquaintance  or  other,  my  dear,  I  sup- 
pose; I  am  sure  I  do  not  know." 

<^La!''  replied  Kitty,     it  looks  just  like  that 
man  that  used  to  be  with  him  before.    Mr.  what 
his  name,  — that  tall,  proud  man.'' 

^'Good  gracious!  Mr.  Darcy!  —  and  so  it  does, 
I  vow.  Well,  any  friend  of  Mr.  Bingiey's  will 
always  be  welcome  here,  to  be  sure;  but  else  I 
must  say  that  I  hate  the  very  sight  of  him.'' 

Jane  looked  at  Elizabeth  with  surprise  and  con- 
cern. She  knew  but  little  of  their  meeting  in 
Derbyshire,  and  therefore  felt  for  the  awkwardness 
which  must  attend  her  sister  in  seeing  him  al- 
most for  the  first  time  after  receiving  his  ex- 
planatory letter.  Both  sisters  were  uncomfortable 
enough.  Each  felt  for  the  other,  and  of  course 
for  themselves ;  and  their  mother  talked  on  of  her 
dislike  of  Mr.  Darcy,  and  her  resolution  to  be 
civil  to  him  only  as  Mr.  Bingiey's  friend,  without 
being  heard  by  either  of  them.  But  Elizabeth 
had  sources  of  uneasiness  which  could  not  be  sus- 
pected by  Jane,  to  whom  she  had  never  yet  had 
courage  to  show  Mrs.  Gardiner's  letter,  or  to  re- 
late her  own  change  of  sentiment  towards  him. 
To  Jane  he  could  be  only  a  man  whose  proposals 
she  had  refused,  and  whose  merits  she  had  under- 
valued; but  to  her  own  more  extensive  informa- 
tion he  was  the  person  to  whom  the  whole  family 
were  indebted  for  the  first  of  benefits,  and  whom 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  207 


she  regarded  herself  with  an  interest,  if  not  quite 
so  tender,  at  least  as  reasonable  and  just  as  what 
Jane  felt  for  Bingley.  Her  astonishment  at  his 
coming  —  at  his  coming  to  Netherfield,  to  Long- 
bourn,  and  voluntarily  seeking  her  again  —  was 
almost  equal  to  what  she  had  known  on  first 
witnessing  his  altered  behavior  in  Derbyshire. 

The  color  which  had  been  driven  from  her  face 
returned  for  half  a  minute  w4th  an  additional 
glow,  and  a  smile  of  delight  added  lustre  to  her 
eyes,  as  she  thought  for  that  space  of  time  that  his 
affection  and  wishes  must  still  be  unshaken ;  but 
she  would  not  be  secure. 

"Let  me  first  see  how  he  behaves,"  said  she; 
**it  will  then  be  early  enough  for  expectation.'' 

She  sat  intently  at  work,  striving  to  be  com- 
posed, and  without  daring  to  lift  up  her  eyes,  till 
anxious  curiosity  carried  them  to  the  face  of  her 
sister  as  the  servant  was  approaching  the  door. 
Jane  looked  a  little  paler  than  usual,  but  more 
sedate  than  Elizabeth  had  expected.  On  the  gen- 
tlemen's appearing,  her  color  increased;  yet  she 
received  them  with  tolerable  ease,  and  with  a  pro- 
priety of  behavior  equally  free  from  any  symptom 
of  resentment  or  any  unnecessary  complaisance. 

Elizabeth  said  as  little  to  either  as  civility 
would  allow,  and  sat  down  again  to  her  work, 
with  an  eagerness  which  it  did  not  often  com- 
mand.    She  had  ventured  only  one  glance  at 


208  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Darcy.  He  looked  serious  as  usual,  and,  she 
thought,  more  as  he  had  been  used  to  look  in 
Hertfordshire  than  as  she  had  seen  him  at  Pem- 
berley.  But,  perhaps,  he  could  not  in  her 
mother's  presence  be  what  he  was  before  her 
uncle  and  aunt.  It  was  a  painful  but  not  an 
improbable  conjecture. 

Bingley  she  had  likewise  seen  for  an  instant, 
and  in  that  short  period  saw  him  looking  both 
pleased  and  embarrassed.  He  was  received  by 
Mrs.  Bennet  with  a  degree  of  civility  which  made 
her  two  daughters  ashamed,  especially  when  con- 
trasted with  the  cold  and  ceremonious  politeness 
of  her  courtesy  and  address  of  his  friend. 

Elizabeth  particularly,  who  knew  that  her 
mother  owed  to  the  latter  the  preservation  of  her 
favorite  daughter  from  irremediable  infamy,  was 
hurt  and  distressed  to  a  most  painful  degree  by  a 
distinction  so  ill  applied. 

Darcy,  after  inquiring  of  her  how  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gardiner  did,  —  a  question  which  she  could 
not  answer  without  confusion,  —  said  scarcely  any- 
thing. He  was  not  seated  by  her:  perhaps  that 
was  the  reason  of  his  silence ;  but  it  had  not  been 
so  in  Derbyshire.  There  he  had  talked  to  her 
friends  when  he  could  not  to  herself.  But  now 
several  minutes  elapsed,  without  bringing  the 
sound  of  his  voice ;  and  when  occasionally,  unable 
to  resist  the  impulse  of  curiosity,  she  raised  her 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


209 


eyes  to  his  face,  she  as  often  found  him  looking  at 
Jane  as  at  herself,  and  frequently  on  no  object  but 
the  ground.  More  thoughtfulness  and  less  anxiety 
to  please  than  when  they  last  met  were  plainly  ex- 
pressed. She  was  disappointed,  and  angry  with 
herself  for  being  so. 

Could  I  expect  it  to  be  otherwise?     said  she. 
Yet  why  did  he  come? 

She  was  in  no  humor  for  conversation  with 
any  one  but  himself;  and  to  him  she  had  hardly 
courage  to  speak. 

She  inquired  after  his  sister,  but  could  do  no 
more. 

*^It  is  a  long  time,  Mr.  Bingley,  since  you 
went  away,''  said  Mrs.  Bennet. 

He  readily  agreed  to  it. 

began  to  be  afraid  you  would  never  come 
back  again.  People  did  say  you  meant  to  quit  the 
place  entirely  at  Michaelmas;  but,  however,  I 
hope  it  is  not  true.  A  great  many  changes  have 
happened  in  the  neighborhood  since  you  went 
away.  Miss  Lucas  is  married  and  settled;  and 
one  of  my  own  daughters.  I  suppose  you  have 
heard  of  it ;  indeed,  you  must  have  seen  it  in  the 
papers.  It  was  in  the  Times  and  the  Courier, 
I  know;  though  it  was  not  put  in  as  it  ought  to 
be.  It  was  only  said,  ^  Lately,  George  Wickham, 
Esq.,  to  Miss  Lydia  Bennet,'  without  there  being 
a  syllable  said  of  her  father,  or  the  place  where 

VOL.  II.  — 14 


210  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


she  lived,  or  anything.  It  was  my  brother  Gar- 
diner's drawing  up,  too,  and  I  wonder  how  he 
came  to  make  such  an  awkward  business  of  it. 
Did  you  see  it? 

Bingley  replied  that  he  did,  and  made  his  con- 
gratulations. Elizabeth  dared  not  lift  up  her 
eyes.  How  Mr.  Darcy  looked,  therefore,  she 
could  not  tell. 

It  is  a  delightful  thing,  to  be  sure,  to  have  a 
daughter  well  married,"  continued  her  mother; 
*'but  at  the  same  time,  Mr.  Bingley,  it  is  very 
hard  to  have  her  taken  away  from  me.  They  are 
gone  down  to  Newcastle,  a  place  quite  northward, 
it  seems;  and  there  they  are  to  stay,  I  do  not 
know  how  long.  His  regiment  is  there ;  for  I  sup- 
pose you  have  heard  of  his  leaving  the  shire, 

and  of  his  being  gone  into  the  Begulars.  Thank 
Heaven!  he  has  some  friends,  though,  perhaps, 
not  so  many  as  he  deserves.'' 

Elizabeth,  who  knew  this  to  be  levelled  at  Mr. 
Darcy,  was  in  such  misery  of  shame  that  she 
could  hardly  keep  her  seat.  It  drew  from  her, 
however,  the  exertion  of  speaking,  which  noth- 
ing else  had  so  effectually  done  before;  and  she 
asked  Bingley  whether  he  meant  to  make  any 
stay  in  the  country  at  present.  A  few  weeks,  he 
believed. 

**When  you  have  killed  all  your  own  birds, 
Mr.  Bingley,"  said  her  mother,  ^'I  beg  you  will 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


211 


come  here  and  shoot  as  many  as  you  please  on  Mr. 
Bennetts  manor.  I  am  sure  he  will  be  vastly 
happy  to  oblige  you,  and  will  save  all  the  best  of 
the  coveys  for  you.'' 

Elizabeth's  misery  increased  at  such  unnecessary, 
such  officious  attention !  Were  the  same  fair  pros- 
pect to  arise  at  present  as  had  flattered  them  a 
year  ago,  everything,  she  was  persuaded,  would  be 
hastening  to  the  same  vexatious  conclusion.  At 
that  instant  she  felt  that  years  of  happiness  could 
not  make  Jane  or  herself  amends  for  moments  of 
such  painful  confusion. 

^^The  first  wish  of  my  heart,"  said  she  to  her- 
self, ''is  nevermore  to  be  in  company  with  either 
of  them.  Their  society  can  afford  no  pleasure  that 
will  atone  for  such  wretchedness  as  this !  Let  me 
never  see  either  one  or  the  other  again!  " 

Yet  the  misery,  for  which  years  of  happiness 
were  to  offer  no  compensation,  received  soon  after- 
wards material  relief,  from  observing  how  much 
the  beauty  of  her  sister  rekindled  the  admiration 
of  her  former  lover.  When  first  he  came  in,  he 
had  spoken  to  her  but  little;  but  every  five  min- 
utes seemed  to  be  giving  her  more  of  his  attention. 
He  found  her  as  handsome  as  she  had  been  last 
year;  as  good-natured  and  as  unaffected,  though 
not  quite  so  chatty.  Jane  was  anxious  that  no 
difference  should  be  perceived  in  her  at  all,  and 
was  really  persuaded  that  she  talked  as  much  as 


212  PRTDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


ever;  but  her  mind  was  so  busily  engaged  that 
she  did  not  always  know  when  she  was  silent. 

When  the  gentlemen  rose  to  go  away,  Mrs. 
Bennet  was  mindful  of  her  intended  civility,  and 
they  were  invited  and  engaged  to  dine  at  Long- 
bourn  in  a  few  days'  time. 

*^You  are  quite  a  visit  in  my  debt,  Mr.  Bing- 
ley,"  she  added;  ^^for  when  you  went  to  town 
last  winter,  you  promised  to  take  a  family  dinner 
with  us  as  soon  as  you  returned.  I  have  not  for- 
got, you  see;  and  I  assure  you  I  was  very  much 
disappointed  that  you  did  not  come  back  and  keep 
your  engagement.'' 

Bingley  looked  a  little  silly  at  this  reflection, 
and  said  something  of  his  concern  at  having  been 
prevented  by  business.    They  then  went  away. 

Mrs.  Bennet  had  been  strongly  inclined  to  ask 
them  to  stay  and  dine  there  that  day;  but  though 
she  always  kept  a  very  good  table,  she  did  not 
think  anj^thing  less  than  two  courses  could  be  good 
enough  for  a  man  on  whom  she  had  such  anxious 
designs,  or  satisfy  the  appetite  and  pride  of  one 
who  had  ten  thousand  a  year. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


As  soon  as  they  were  gone,  Elizabeth  walked  out 
to  recover  her  spirits,  or,  in  other  words,  to  dwell 
without  interruption  on  those  subjects  that  must 
deaden  them  more.  Mr.  Darcy's  behavior  aston- 
ished and  vexed  her. 

Wliy,  if  he  came  only  to  be  silent,  grave,  and 
indifferent,"  said  she,     did  he  come  at  all? 

She  could  settle  it  in  no  way  that  gave  her 
pleasure. 

He  could  be  still  amiable,  still  pleasing  to  my 
uncle  and  aunt,  when  he  was  in  town;  and  why 
not  to  me?  If  he  fears  me,  why  come  hither?  If 
he  no  longer  cares  for  me,  why  silent?  Teas- 
ing, teasing  man!  I  will  think  no  more  about 
him." 

Her  resolution  was  for  a  short  time  involuntarily 
kept  by  the  approach  of  her  sister,  who  joined  her 
with  a  cheerful  look  which  showed  her  better  satis- 
fied with  their  visitors  than  Elizabeth. 

*^Now,''  said  she,  ^Hhat  this  first  meeting  is 
over,  I  feel  perfectly  easy.  I  know  my  own 
strength,  and  I  shall  never  be  embarrassed  again 
by  his  coming.    I  am  glad  he  dines  here  on  Tues- 


214 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


day.  It  will  then  be  publicly  seen  that  on  both 
sides  we  meet  only  as  common  and  indifferent 
acquaintance." 

Yes,  very  indifferent  indeed,"  said  Elizabeth, 
laughingly.     ^^Oh,  Jane,  take  care!" 

^^My  dear  Lizzy,  you  cannot  think  me  so  weak 
as  to  be  in  danger  now.'' 

^  ^  I  think  you  are  in  very  great  danger  of  making 
him  as  much  in  love  with  you  as  ever." 

They  did  not  see  the  gentlemen  again  till  Tues- 
day; and  Mrs.  Bennet  in  the  mean  while  was 
giving  way  to  all  the  happy  schemes  which  the 
good-humor  and  common  politeness  of  Bingley  in 
half  an  hour's  visit  had  revived. 

On  Tuesday  there  was  a  large  party  assembled 
at  Longbourn;  and  the  two  who  were  most  anx- 
iously expected,  to  the  credit  of  their  punctuality 
as  sportsmen,  were  in  very  good  time.  When 
they  repaired  to  the  dining-room,  Elizabeth  eagerly 
watched  to  see  whether  Bingley  would  take  the 
place  which  in  all  their  former  parties  had  be- 
longed to  him,  by  her  sister.  Her  prudent  mother, 
occupied  by  the  same  ideas,  forbore  to  invite  him 
to  sit  by  herself.  On  entering  the  room  he  seemed 
to  hesitate;  but  Jane  happened  to  look  round,  and 
happened  to  smile:  it  was  decided.  He  placed 
himself  by  her. 

Elizabeth,  with  a  triumphant  sensation,  looked 
towards  his  friend.    He  bore  it  with  noble  in- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


215 


difference;  and  she  would  have  imagined  that 
Bingley  had  received  his  sanction  to  be  happy, 
had  she  not  seen  his  eyes  likewise  turned  towards 
Mr.  Darcy,  with  an  expression  of  half-laughing 
alarm. 

His  behavior  to  her  sister  was  such  during 
dinner-time  as  showed  an  admiration  of  her  which, 
though  more  guarded  than  formerly,  persuaded 
Elizabeth  that  if  left  wholly  to  himself,  Jane's 
happiness  and  his  own  would  be  speedily  secured. 
Though  she  dared  not  depend  upon  the  conse- 
quence, she  yet  received  pleasure  from  observing 
his  behavior.  It  gave  her  all  the  animation  that 
her  spirits  could  boast ;  for  she  was  in  no  cheerful 
humor.  Mr.  Darcy  was  almost  as  far  from  her  as 
the  table  could  divide  them.  He  was  on  one  side 
of  her  mother.  She  knew  how  little  such  a  situa- 
tion would  give  pleasure  to  either,  or  make  either 
appear  to  advantage.  She  was  not  near  enough  to 
hear  any  of  their  discourse ;  but  she  could  see  how 
seldom  they  spoke  to  each  other,  and  how  formal 
and  cold  was  their  manner  whenever  they  did. 
Her  mother's  ungraciousness  made  the  sense  of 
what  they  owed  him  more  painful  to  Elizabeth's 
mind;  and  she  would  at  times  have  given  any- 
thing to  be  privileged  to  tell  him  that  his  kind- 
ness was  neither  unknown  nor  unfelt  by  the  whole 
of  the  family. 

She  was  in  hopes  that  the  evening  would  afford 


216  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


some  opportunity  of  bringing  them  together;  that 
the  whole  of  the  visit  would  not  pass  away  without 
enabling  them  to  enter  into  something  more  of 
conversation  than  the  mere  ceremonious  salutation 
attending  his  entrance.  Anxious  and  uneasy,  the 
period  which  passed  in  the  drawing-room  before 
"  the  gentlemen  came  was  wearisome  and  dull  to  a 
degree  that  almost  made  her  uncivil.  She  looked 
forward  to  their  entrance  as  the  point  on  which 
^  all  her  chance  of  pleasure  for  the  evening  must 
depend. 

If  he  does  not  come  to  me  then,"  said  she,  I 
shall  give  him  up  forever." 

The  gentlemen  came ;  and  she  thought  he  looked 
as  if  he  would  have  answered  her  hopes :  but,  alas ! 
the  ladies  had  crowded  round  the  table  where  Miss 
Bennet  was  making  tea,  and  Elizabeth  pouring  out 
the  coffee,  in  so  close  a  confederacy  that  there  was 
not  a  single  vacancy  near  her  which  would  admit 
of  a  chair.  And  on  the  gentlemen^s  approaching, 
one  of  the  girls  moved  closer  to  her  than  ever, 
and  said  in  a  whisper  — 

The  men  sha'n't  come  and  part  us,  I  am  deter- 
mined.   We  want  none  of  them;  do  we?" 

Darcy  had  walked  away  to  another  part  of  the 
room.  She  followed  him  with  her  eyes,  envied 
every  one  to  whom  he  spoke,  had  scarcely  patience 
enough  to  help  anybody  to  coffee,  and  then  was 
enraged  against  herself  for  being  so  silly! 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


217 


man  who  has  once  been  refused!  How 
could  I  ever  be  foolish  enough  to  expect  a  renewal  • 
of  his  love?  Is  there  one  among  the  sex  who 
would  not  protest  against  such  a  weakness  as  a 
second  proposal  to  the  same  woman?  There  is 
no  indignity  so  abhorrent  to  their  feelings." 

She  was  a  little  revived,  however,  by  his  bring- 
ing back  his  coffee-cup  himself;  and  she  seized  the 
opportunity  of  saying,  — 

'^Is  your  sister  at  Pemberley  still?  " 
Yes;  she  will  remain  there  till  Christmas." 

*'And  quite  alone?    Have  all  her  friends  left 
her?" 

*^Mrs.  Annesley  is  with  her.  The  others  have 
been  gone  on  to  Scarborough  these  three  weeks." 

She  could  think  of  nothing  more  to  say;  but  if 
he  wished  to  converse  with  her,  he  might  have 
better  success.  He  stood  by  her,  however,  for 
some  minutes  in  silence;  and  at  last,  on  the  young 
lady's  whispering  to  Elizabeth  again,  he  walked 
away. 

When  the  tea-things  were  removed,  and  the 
card-tables  placed,  the  ladies  all  rose,  and  Eliza- 
beth was  then  hoping  to  be  soon  joined  by  him, 
when  all  her  views  were  overthrown  by  seeing 
him  fall  a  victim  to  her  mother's  rapacity  for  whist- 
players,  and  in  a  few  moments  after  seated  with 
the  rest  of  the  party.  She  now  lost  every  expec- 
tation of  pleasure.    They  were  confined  for  the 


218  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


evening  at  different  tables,  and  she  had  nothing  to 
hope,  but  that  his  eyes  were  so  often  turned  to- 
wards her  side  of  the  room  as  to  make  him  play  as 
unsuccessfully  as  herself. 

Mrs.  Bennet  had  designed  to  keep  the  two 
Netherfield  gentlemen  to  supper;  but  their  car- 
riage was,  unluckily,  ordered  before  any  of  the 
others,  and  she  had  no  opportunity  of  detaining 
them. 

^^Well,  girls,"  said  she,  as  soon  as  they  were 
left  to  themselves,  what  say  you  to  the  day?  I 
think  everything  has  passed  off  uncommonly  well, 
I  assure  you.  The  dinner  was  as  well  dressed  as 
any  I  ever  saw.  The  venison  was  roasted  to  a 
turn,  —  and  everybody  said  they  never  saw  so  fat 
a  haunch.  The  soup  was  fifty  times  better  than 
what  we  had  at  the  Lucases  last  week;  and  even 
Mr.  Darcy  acknowledged  that  the  partridges  were 
remarkably  well  done;  and  I  suppose  he  has  two 
or  three  French  cooks  at  least.  And,  my  dear 
Jane,  I  never  saw  you  look  in  greater  beauty. 
Mrs.  Long  said  so  too,  for  I  asked  her  whether 
you  did  not.  And  what  do  you  think  she  said 
besides?  ^Ah!  Mrs.  Bennet,  we  shall  have  her 
at  Netherfield  at  last!  '  She  did,  indeed.  I  do 
think  Mrs.  Long  is  as  good  a  creature  as  ever 
lived,  and  her  nieces  are  very  pretty  behaved 
girls,  and  not  at  all  handsome;  I  like  them 
prodigiously." 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


219 


Mrs.  Bennet,  in  short,  was  in  very  great  spirits : 
she  had  seen  enough  of  Bingley's  behavior  to  Jane 
to  be  convinced  that  she  would  get  him  at  last; 
and  her  expectations  of  advantage  to  her  family, 
when  in  a  happy  humor,  were  so  far  beyond  reason 
that  she  was  quite  disappointed  at  not  seeing  him 
there  again  the  next  day  to  make  his  proposals. 

^'It  has  been  a  very  agreeable  day,''  said  Miss 
Bennet  to  Elizabeth.  "  The  party  seemed  so  well 
selected,  so  suitable  one  with  the  other.  I  hope 
we  may  often  meet  again.'' 

Elizabeth  smiled. 

^'  Lizzy,  you  must  not  do  so.  You  must  not  sus- 
pect me.  It  mortifies  me.  I  assure  you  that  I 
have  now  learned  to  enjoy  his  conversation  as  an 
agreeable  and  sensible  young  man  without  having 
a  wish  beyond  it.  I  am  perfectly  satisfied,  from 
what  his  manners  now  are,  that  he  never  had  any 
design  of  engaging  my  affection.  It  is  only  that 
he  is  blessed  with  greater  sweetness  of  address, 
and  a  stronger  desire  of  generally  pleasing,  than 
any  other  man." 

^^You  are  very  cruel,"  said  her  sister;  '^you 
will  not  let  me  smile,  and  are  provoking  me  to  it 
every  moment." 

*^How  hard  it  is  in  some  cases  to  be  believed, 
and  how  impossible  in  others!  But  why  should 
you  wish  to  persuade  me  that  I  feel  more  than  I 
acknowledge?  " 


220 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


"  That  is  a  question  which  I  hardly  know  how 
to  answer.  We  all  love  to  instruct,  though  we 
can  teach  only  what  is  not  worth  knowing.  For- 
give me ;  and  if  you  persist  in  indifference,  do  not 
make  me  your  confidante." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


A  FEW  days  after  this  visit,  Mr.  Bingley  called 
again,  and  alone.  His  friend  had  left  him  that 
morning  for  London,  but  was  to  return  home  in 
ten  days'  time.  He  sat  with  them  above  an  hour, 
and  was  in  remarkably  good  spirits.  Mrs.  Bennet 
invited  him  to  dine  with  them ;  but  with  many  ex- 
pressions of  concern,  he  confessed  himself  engaged 
elsewhere. 

^^Kext  time  you  call,''  said  she,  "I  hope  we 
shall  be  more  lucky.'' 

He  should  be  particularly  happy  at  any  time, 
etc. ;  and  if  she  would  give  him  leave,  would  take 
an  early  opportunity  of  waiting  on  them. 
Can  you  come  to-morrow?  " 

Yes,  he  had  no  engagement  at  all  for  to-morrow; 
and  her  invitation  was  accepted  with  alacrity. 

He  came,  and  in  such  very  good  time  that  the 
ladies  were  none  of  them  dressed.  In  ran  Mrs. 
Bennet  to  her  daughter's  room,  in  her  dressing- 
gown,  and  with  her  hair  half  finished,  crying 
out,  — 

**My  dear  Jane,  make  haste  and  hurry  down. 
He  is  come,  —  Mr.  Bingley  is  come ;  he  is,  in* 


222  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


deed.  Make  haste,  make  haste.  Here,  Sarah,  come 
to  Miss  Bennet  this  moment,  and  help  her  on  with 
her  gown.    Never  mind  Miss  Lizzy's  hair.'' 

*^We  will  be  down  as  soon  as  we  can,"  said 
Jane;  **but  I  dare  say  Kitty  is  forwarder  than 
either  of  us,  for  she  went  upstairs  half  an  hour 
ago.'' 

^^Oh!  hang  Kitty!  what  has  she  to  do  with  it? 
Come,  be  quick,  be  quick!  Where  is  your  sash, 
my  dear?  " 

But  when  her  mother  was  gone,  Jane  would  not 
be  prevailed  on  to  go  down  without  one  of  her 
sisters. 

The  same  anxiety  to  get  them  by  themselves  was 
visible  again  in  the  evening.  After  tea  Mr.  Ben- 
net  retired  to  the  library,  as  was  his  custom,  and 
Mary  went  upstairs  to  her  instrument.  Two 
obstacles  of  the  five  being  thus  removed,  Mrs.  Ben- 
net  sat  looking  and  winking  at  Elizabeth  and 
Catherine  for  a  considerable  time,  without  making 
any  impression  on  them.  Elizabeth  would  not 
observe  her;  and  when  at  last  Kitty  did,  she  very 
innocently  said,  ^^What  is  the  matter,  mamma? 
What  do  you  keep  winking  at  me  for?  What  am 
I  to  do?  " 

Nothing,  child,  nothing.  I  did  not  wink  at 
you."  She  then  sat  still  five  minutes  longer;  but 
unable  to  waste  such  a  precious  occasion,  she 
suddenly  got  up,  and  saying  to  Kitty,  — 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  223 


''Come  here,  my  love,  I  want  to  speak  to  you," 
took  her  out  of  the  room.  Jane  instantly  gave  a 
look  at  Elizabeth  which  spoke  her  distress  at  such 
premeditation,  and  her  entreaty  that  she  would  not 
give  in  to  it.  In  a  few  minutes  Mrs.  Bennet 
half  opened  the  door  and  called  out,  — 

''Lizzy,  my  dear,  I  want  to  speak  with  you." 

Elizabeth  was  forced  to  go. 

"We  may  as  well  leave  them  by  themselves, 
you  know,"  said  her  mother,  as  soon  as  she  was  in 
the  hall.  "Kitty  and  I  are  going  upstairs  to  sit 
in  my  dressing-room." 

Elizabeth  made  no  attempt  to  reason  with  her 
mother,  but  remained  quietly  in  the  hall  till  she 
and  Kitty  were  out  of  sight,  then  returned  into 
the  drawing-room. 

Mrs.  Bennet's  schemes  for  this  day  were  inef- 
fectual. Bingley  was  everything  that  was  charm- 
ing, except  the  professed  lover  of  her  daughter. 
His  ease  and  cheerfulness  rendered  him  a  most 
agreeable  addition  to  their  evening  party;  and  he 
bore  with  the  ill-judged  officiousness  of  the  mother, 
and  heard  all  her  silly  remarks  with  a  forbearance 
and  command  of  countenance  particularly  grateful 
to  the  daughter. 

He  scarcely  needed  an  invitation  to  stay  supper; 
and  before  he  went  away  an  engagement  was 
formed,  chiefly  through  his  own  and  Mrs,  Bennetts 
means,  for  his  coming  next  morning  to  shoot  with 
her  husband. 


224  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


After  this  day  Jane  said  no  more  of  her  indif- 
ference. Not  a  word  passed  between  the  sisters 
concerning  Bingley;  but  Elizabeth  went  to  bed  in 
the  happy  belief  that  all  must  speedily  be  con- 
cluded, unless  Mr.  Darcy  returned  within  the 
stated  time.  Seriously,  however,  she  felt  toler- 
ably persuaded  that  all  this  must  have  taken  place 
with  that  gentleman's  concurrence. 

Bingley  was  punctual  to  his  appointment;  and 
he  and  Mr.  Bennet  spent  the  morning  together,  as 
had  been  agreed  on.  The  latter  was  much  more 
agreeable  than  his  companion  expected.  There 
was  nothing  of  presumption  or  folly  in  Bingley 
that  could  provoke  his  ridicule,  or  disgust  him 
into  silence;  and  he  was  more  communicative  and 
less  eccentric  than  the  other  had  ever  seen  him. 
Bingley  of  course  returned  with  him  to  dinner; 
and  in  the  evening  Mrs.  Bennetts  invention  was 
again  at  work  to  get  everybody  away  from  him  and 
her  daughter.  Elizabeth,  who  had  a  letter  to 
write,  went  into  the  breakfast-room  for  that  pur- 
pose soon  after  tea;  for  as  the  others  were  all  going 
to  sit  down  to  cards,  she  could  not  be  wanted  to 
counteract  her  mother's  schemes. 

But  on  her  returning  to  the  drawing-room,  when 
her  letter  was  finished,  she  saw,  to  her  infinite 
surprise,  there  was  reason  to  fear  that  her  mother 
had  been  too  ingenious  for  her.  On  opening  the 
door,  she  perceived  her  sister  and  Bingley  standing 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  225 


together  over  the  hearth,  as  if  engaged  in  earnest 
conversation ;  and  had  this  led  to  no  suspicion,  the 
faces  of  hoth,  as  they  hastily  turned  round  and 
moved  away  from  each  other,  would  have  told  it 
all.  Their  situation  was  awkward  enough;  but 
hers  she  thought  was  still  worse.  Not  a  syllable 
was  uttered  by  either;  and  Elizabeth  was  on  the 
point  of  going  away  again,  when  Bingley,  who  as 
well  as  the  other  had  sat  down,  suddenly  rose,  and 
whispering  a  few  words  to  her  sister,  ran  out  of 
the  room. 

Jane  could  have  no  reserves  from  Elizabeth, 
where  confidence  would  give  pleasure;  and  in- 
stantly embracing  her,  acknowledged,  with  the 
liveliest  emotion,  that  she  was  the  happiest  creat- 
ure in  the  world. 

is  too  much,''  she  added,  by  far  too  much  ! 
I  do  not  deserve  it.  Oh,  why  is  not  everybody 
as  happy?" 

Elizabeth's  congratulations  were  given  with  a 
sincerity,  a  warmth,  a  delight,  which  words  could 
but  poorly  express.  Every  sentence  of  kindness 
was  a  fresh  source  of  happiness  to  Jane.  But  she 
would  not  allow  herself  to  stay  with  her  sister, 
or  say  half  that  remained  to  be  said,  for  the 
present. 

^'I  must  go  instantly  to  my  mother,"  she  cried, 
would  not  on  any  account  trifle  with  her  af- 
fectionate solicitude,  or  allow  her  to  hear  it  from 

VOL.  II.  — 15 


226  PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


any  one  but  myself.  He  is  gone  to  my  father 
already.  Oh,  Lizzy,  to  know  that  what  I  have 
to  relate  will  give  such  pleasure  to  all  my  dear 
family!    How  shall  I  bear  so  much  happiness?'' 

She  then  hastened  away  to  her  mother,  who 
had  purposely  broken  up  the  card-party,  and  was 
sitting  upstairs  with  Kitty. 

Elizabeth,  who  was  left  by  herself,  now  smiled 
at  the  rapidity  and  ease  with  which  an  affair  was 
finally  settled  that  had  given  them  so  many  pre- 
vious months  of  surprise  and  vexation. 

*'And  this,"  said  she,  *^is  the  end  of  all  his 
friend's  anxious  circumspection,  of  all  his  sister's 
falsehood  and  contrivance,  the  happiest,  wisest, 
and  most  reasonable  end!" 

In  a  few  minutes  she  was  joined  by  Bingley, 
whose  conference  with  her  father  had  been  short 
and  to  the  purpose. 

Where  is  your  sister?"  said  he,  hastily,  as 
he  opened  the  door. 

With  my  mother  upstairs.  She  will  be  down 
in  a  moment,  I  dare  say." 

He  then  shut  the  door,  and  coming  up  to  her, 
claimed  the  good  wishes  and  affection  of  a  sister. 
Elizabeth  honestly  and  heartily  expressed  her  de- 
light in  the  prospect  of  their  relationship.  They 
shook  hands  with  great  cordiality;  and  then,  till 
her  sister  came  down,  she  had  to  listen  to  all  he 
had  to  say  of  his  own  happiness  and  of  Jane's 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


227 


perfections;  and  in  spite  of  his  being  a  lover, 
Elizabeth  really  believed  all  his  expectations  of 
felicity  to  be  rationally  founded,  because  they  had 
for  basis  the  excellent  understanding  and  super- 
excellent  disposition  of  Jane,  and  a  general 
similarity  of  feeling  and  taste  between  her  and 
himself. 

It  was  an  evening  of  no  common  delight  to 
them  all.  The  satisfaction  of  Miss  Bennet's  mind 
gave  such  a  glow  of  sweet  animation  to  her  face 
as  made  her  look  handsomer  than  ever.  Kitty 
simpered  and  smiled,  and  hoped  her  turn  was 
coming  soon.  Mrs.  Bennet  could  not  give  her 
consent  or  speak  her  approbation  in  terms  warm 
enough  to  satisfy  her  feelings,  though  she  talked 
to  Bingley  of  nothing  else  for  half  an  hour;  and 
when  Mr.  Bennet  joined  them  at  supper,  his 
voice  and  manner  plainly  showed  how  really 
happy  he  was. 

Not  a  word,  however,  passed  his  lips  in  allu- 
sion to  it,  till  their  visitor  took  his  leave  for  the 
night;  but  as  soon  as  he  was  gone,  he  turned  to 
his  daughter  and  said, — 

*^Jane,  I  congratulate  you.  You  will  be  a 
very  happy  woman." 

Jane  went  to  him  instantly,  kissed  him,  and 
thanked  him  for  his  goodness. 

^^You  are  a  good  girl,"  he  replied,  '^and  I 
have  great  pleasure  in  thinking  you  will  be  so 


228 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


happily  settled.  I  have  not  a  douht  of  your  do- 
ing very  well  together.  Your  tempers  are  by  no 
means  unlike.  You  are  each  of  you  so  comply- 
ing that  nothing  will  ever  be  resolved  on,  so 
easy  that  every  servant  will  cheat  you,  and 
so  generous  that  you  will  always  exceed  your 
income." 

hope  not  so.  Imprudence  or  thoughtlessness 
in  money  matters  would  be  unpardonable  in  me.'' 
Exceed  their  income!  My  dear  Mr.  Bennet/' 
cried  his  wife,  ^^what  are  you  talking  of  ?  Why, 
he  has  four  or  five  thousand  a  year,  and  very  likely 
more.''  Then  addressing  her  daughter,  ^^Oh,  my 
dear,  dear  Jane,  I  am  so  happy!  I  am  sure  I 
sha'n't  get  a  wink  of  sleep  all  night.  I  knew 
how  it  would  be.  I  always  said  it  must  be  so,  at 
last.  I  was  sure  you  could  not  be  so  beautiful  for 
nothing!  I  remember,  as  soon  as  ever  I  saw  him, 
when  he  first  came  into  Hertfordshire  last  year,  I 
thought  how  likely  it  was  that  you  should  come  to- 
gether. Oh,  he  is  the  handsomest  young  man  that 
ever  was  seen!  " 

Wickham,  Lydia,  were  all  forgotten.  Jane  was 
beyond  competition  her  favorite  child.  At  that 
moment  she  cared  for  no  other.  Her  younger  sis- 
ters soon  began  to  make  interest  with  her  for  ob- 
jects of  happiness  which  she  might  in  future  be 
able  to  dispense. 

Mary  petitioned  for  the  use  of  the  library  at 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


229 


Netherfield ;  and  Kitty  begged  very  hard  for  a  few 
balls  there  every  winter. 

Bingley,  from  this  time,  was  of  course  a  daily 
visitor  at  Longbourn;  coming  frequently  before 
breakfast,  and  always  remaining  till  after  supper; 
unless  when  some  barbarous  neighbor,  who  could 
not  be  enough  detested,  had  given  him  an  invita- 
tion to  dinner  which  he  thought  himself  obliged 
to  accept. 

Elizabeth  had  now  but  little  time  for  conversa- 
tion with  her  sister;  for  while  he  was  present  Jane 
had  no  attention  to  bestow  on  any  one  else :  but 
dhe  found  herself  considerably  useful  to  both  of 
them,  in  those  hours  of  separation  that  must  some- 
times occur.  In  the  absence  of  Jane,  he  always 
attached  himself  to  Elizabeth,  for  the  pleasure  of 
talking  of  her;  and  when  Bingley  was  gone,  Jane 
constantly  sought  the  same  means  of  relief. 

'^He  has  made  me  so  happy,''  said  she,  one 
evening,  ^'by  telling  me  that  he  was  totally  igno- 
rant of  my  being  in  town  last  spring !  I  had  not 
believed  it  possible." 

suspected   as   much,"  replied  Elizabeth. 
**But  how  did  he  account  for  it?" 

**It  must  have  been  his  sisters'  doing.  They 
were  certainly  no  friends  to  his  acquaintance  with 
me,  which  I  cannot  wonder  at,  since  he  might 
have  chosen  so  much  more  advantageously  in  many 
respects.    But  when  they  see,  as  I  trust  they  will, 


230 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


that  their  brother  is  happy  with  me,  they  will 
learn  to  be  contented,  and  we  shall  be  on  good 
terms  again;  though  we  can  never  be  what  we 
once  were  to  each  other/' 

^^That  is  the  most  unforgiving  speech,'' said 
Elizabeth,  ^^that  I  ever  heard  you  utter.  Good 
girl!  It  would  vex  me,  indeed,  to  see  you  again 
the  dupe  of  Miss  Bingley's  pretended  regard." 

Would  you  believe  it,  Lizzy,  that  when  he 
went  to  town  last  November  he  really  loved  me, 
and  nothing  but  a  persuasion  of  my  being  indif- 
ferent would  have  prevented  his  coming  down 
again?  " 

He  made  a  little  mistake,  to  be  sure;  but  it  is 
to  the  credit  of  his  modesty." 

This  naturally  introduced  a  panegyric  from  Jane 
on  his  diffidence,  and  the  little  value  he  put  on  his 
own  good  qualities. 

Elizabeth  was  pleased  to  find  that  he  had  not 
betrayed  the  interference  of  his  friend ;  for  though 
Jane  had  the  most  generous  and  forgiving  heart  in 
the  world,  she  knew  it  was  a  circumstance  which 
must  prejudice  her  against  him. 

I  am  certainly  the  most  fortunate  creature  that 
ever  existed!  "  cried  Jane.  Oh,  Lizzy,  why  am 
I  thus  singled  from  my  family,  and  blessed  above 
them  all?  If  I  could  but  see  you  as  happy!  If 
there  were  but  such  another  man  for  you !  ' ' 

If  you  were  to  give  me  forty  such  men,  I  never 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


231 


could  be  so  happy  as  you.  Till  I  have  your  dispo- 
sition, your  goodness,  I  never  can  have  your  hap- 
piness. No,  no,  let  me  shift  for  myself;  and 
perhaps,  if  I  have  very  good  luck,  I  may  meet 
with  another  Mr.  Collins  in  time.'' 

The  situation  of  affairs  in  the  Longbourn  family 
could  not  be  long  a  secret.  Mrs.  Bennet  was  privi- 
leged to  whisper  it  to  Mrs.  Philips;  and  she  ven- 
tured, without  any  permission,  to  do  the  same  by 
all  her  neighbors  in  Meryton. 

The  Bennets  were  speedily  pronounced  to  be  the 
luckiest  family  in  the  world;  though  only  a  few 
weeks  before,  when  Lydia  had  first  run  away,  they 
had  been  generally  proved  to  be  marked  out  for 
misfortune. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


One  morning,  about  a  week  after  Bingley's  en- 
gagement with  Jane  had  been  formed,  as  he  and 
the  females  of  the  family  were  sitting  together  in 
the  dining-room,  their  attention  was  suddenly 
drawn  to  the  window  by  the  sound  of  a  carriage ; 
and  they  perceived  a  chaise  and  four  driving  up 
the  lawn.  It  was  too  early  in  the  morning  for 
visitors,  and  besides,  the  equipage  did  not  answei- 
to  that  of  any  of  their  neighbors :  the  horses  were 
post;  and  neither  the  carriage,  nor  the  livery  of 
the  servant  who  preceded  it,  was  familiar  to  them. 
As  it  was  certain,  however,  that  somebody  wa^ 
coming,  Bingley  instantly  prevailed  on  Miss  Ben- 
net  to  avoid  the  confinement  of  such  an  intrusion, 
and  walk  away  with  him  into  the  shrubbery. 
They  both  set  off;  and  the  conjectures  of  the  re- 
maining three  continued,  though  with  little  satis- 
faction, till  the  door  was  thrown  open,  and  their 
visitor  entered.    It  was  Lady  Catherine  de  Bourgh. 

They  were  of  course  all  intending  to  be  sur- 
prised: but  their  astonishment  was  beyond  their 
expectation;  and  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Bennet  and 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  233 


Kitty,  thougli  she  was  perfectly  unknown  to  them, 
even  inferior  to  what  Elizabeth  felt. 

She  entered  the  room  with  an  air  more  than 
usually  ungracious,  made  no  other  reply  to  Eliza- 
beth's salutation  than  a  slight  inclination  of  the 
head,  and  sat  down  without  saying  a  word.  Eliza- 
beth had  mentioned  her  name  to  her  mother  on  her 
Ladyship's  entrance,  though  no  request  of  intro- 
duction had  been  made. 

Mrs.  Bennet,  all  amazement,  though  flattered  by 
having  a  guest  of  such  high  importance,  received 
her  with  the  utmost  politeness.  After  sitting  for 
a  moment  in  silence,  she  said  very  stiffly  to 
Elizabeth,  — 

^^I  hope  you  are  well,  Miss  Bennet.  That  lady, 
I  suppose,  is  your  mother?  " 

Elizabeth  replied  very  concisely  that  she  was. 

And  that,  I  suppose,  is  one  of  your  sisters?  " 
''Yes,  madam,"  said  Mrs.  Bennet,  delighted  to 
speak  to  a  Lady  Catherine.  ''  She  is  my  youngest 
girl  but  one.  My  youngest  of  all  is  lately  married, 
and  my  eldest  is  somewhere  about  the  ground, 
walking  with  a  young  man  who,  I  believe,  will 
soon  become  a  part  of  the  family. '* 

''You  have  a  very  small  park  here,"  returned 
Lady  Catherine,  after  a  short  silence. 

"It  is  nothing  in  comparison  of  Rosings,  my 
Lady,  I  dare  say;  but  I  assure  you  it  is  much 
larger  than  Sir  William  Lucas's." 


234  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


"  This  must  be  a  most  inconvenient  sitting-room 
for  the  evening  in  summer;  the  windows  are  full 
west.'' 

Mrs.  Bennet  assured  her  that  they  never  sat 
there  after  dinner;  and  then  added,  — 

^^May  I  take  the  liberty  of  asking  your  Lady- 
ship whether  you  left  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Collins 
well?'' 

Yes,  very  well.  I  saw  them  the  night  before 
last." 

Elizabeth  now  expected  that  she  would  produce 
a  letter  for  her  from  Charlotte,  as  it  seemed  the 
only  probable  motive  for  her  calling.  But  no 
letter  appeared,  and  she  was  completely  puzzled. 

Mrs.  Bennet,  with  great  civility,  begged  her 
Ladyship  to  take  some  refreshment;  but  Lady 
Catherine  very  resolutely  and  not  very  politely 
declined  eating  anything;  and  then,  rising  up, 
said  to  Elizabeth,  — 

^^Miss  Bennet,  there  seemed  to  be  a  prettyish 
kind  of  a  little  wilderness  on  one  side  of  your 
lawn.  I  should  be  glad  to  take  a  turn  in  it,  if  you 
will  favor  me  with  your  company." 

^^Go,  my  dear,"  cried  her  mother,  ''and  show 
her  Ladyship  about  the  different  walks.  I  think 
she  will  be  pleased  with  the  hermitage." 

Elizabeth  obeyed;  and  running  into  her  own 
room  for  her  parasol,  attended  her  noble  guest 
downstairs.     As  they  passed  through  the  hall. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  235 


Lady  Catherine  opened  the  doors  into  the  dining- 
parlor  and  drawing-room,  and  pronouncing  them, 
after  a  short  survey,  to  be  decent-looking  rooms, 
walked  on. 

Her  carriage  remained  at  the  door,  and  Elizar 
beth  saw  that  her  waiting-woman  was  in  it.  They 
proceeded  in  silence  along  the  gravel  walk  that  led 
to  the  copse ;  Elizabeth  was  determined  to  make  no 
effort  for  conversation  with  a  woman  who  was  now 
more  than  usually  insolent  and  disagreeable. 

How  could  I  ever  think  her  like  her  nephew?" 
said  she,  as  she  looked  in  her  face. 

As  soon  as  they  entered  the  copse.  Lady  Cath 
erine  began  in  the  following  manner :  — 

^^You  can  be  at  no  loss.  Miss  Bennet,  to  under- 
stand the  reason  of  my  journey  hither.  Your 
own  heart,  your  own  conscience,  must  tell  you 
why  I  come." 

Elizabeth  looked  with  unaffected  astonishment. 
Indeed  you  are  mistaken,  madam;  I  have  not 
been  at  all  able  to  account  for  the  honor  of  seeing 
you  here." 

^^Miss  Bennet,"  replied  her  Ladj^ship,  in  an 
angry  tone,  ^'you  ought  to  know  that  I  am  not  to 
be  trifled  with.  But  however  insincere  you  may 
choose  to  be,  you  shall  not  find  me  so.  My  char- 
acter has  ever  been  celebrated  for  its  sincerity  and 
frankness ;  and  in  a  cause  of  such  moment  as  this, 
I  shall  certainly  not  depart  from  it.    A  report  of  a 


236 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


most  alarming  nature  reached  me  two  days  ago.  I 
was  told  that  not  only  your  sister  was  on  the  point 
of  being  most  advantageously  married,  but  that 
you,  that  Miss  Elizabeth  Bennet  would  in  all 
likelihood  be  soon  afterwards  united  to  my 
nephew,  my  own  nephew,  Mr.  Darcy.  Though  I 
know  it  must  be  a  scandalous  falsehood,  though  I 
would  not  injure  him  so  much  as  to  suppose  the 
truth  of  it  possible,  I  instantly  resolved  on  setting 
off  for  this  place,  that  I  might  make  my  sentiments 
known  to  you." 

^^If  you  believed  it  impossible  to  be  true,"  said 
Elizabeth,  coloring  with  astonishment  and  disdain, 
^'1  wonder  you  took  the  trouble  of  coming  so  far. 
What  could  your  Ladyship  propose  by  it?" 

*^At  once  to  insist  upon  having  such  a  report 
universally  contradicted.'' 

Your  coming  to  Longbourn  to  see  me  and  my 
family,"  said  Elizabeth,  coolly,  ^^will  be  rather  a 
confirmation  of  it;  if,  indeed,  such  a  report  is  in 
existence." 

If !  Do  you  then  pretend  to  be  ignorant  of  it? 
Has  it  not  been  industriously  circulated  by  your- 
selves? Do  you  not  know  that  such  a  report  is 
spread  abroad?" 

I  never  heard  that  it  was." 

And  can  you  likewise  declare  that  there  is  no 
foundation  for  it?" 

do  not  pretend  to  possess  equal  frankness 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


237 


with  your  Ladyship.  You  may  ask  questions  which 
I  shall  not  choose  to  answer." 

^'This  is  not  to  be  borne.  Miss  Bennet,  I  in- 
sist on  being  satisfied.  Has  he,  has  my  nephew, 
made  you  an  offer  of  marriage?" 

^^Your  Ladyship  has  declared  it  to  be  impos- 
sible." 

^'It  ought  to  be  so;  it  must  be  so,  while  he 
retains  the  use  of  his  reason.  But  your  arts  and 
allurements  may,  in  a  moment  of  infatuation,  have 
made  him  forget  what  he  owes  to  himself  and  to 
all  his  family.    You  may  have  drawn  him  in." 

^'If  I  have,  I  shall  be  the  last  person  to  con- 
fess it." 

*'Miss  Bennet,  do  you  know  w^ho  I  am?  I 
have  not  been  accustomed  to  such  language  as 
this.  I  am  almost  the  nearest  relation  he  has  in 
the  world,  and  am  entitled  to  know  all  his  dearest 
concerns." 

^'But  you  are  not  entitled  to  know  mine;  nor 
will  such  behavior  as  this  ever  induce  me  to  be 
explicit." 

*^Let  me  be  rightly  understood.  This  match,  to 
which  you  have  the  presumption  to  aspire,  can 
never  take  place;  no,  never.  Mr.  Darcy  is  en- 
gaged to  my  daughter.  Now  what  have  you  to 
say?" 

*^Only  this,  — that  if  he  is  so,  you  can  have  no 
reason  to  suppose  he  will  make  an  offer  to  me.'' 


238  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Lady  Catherine  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and 
then  replied,  — 

' '  The  engagement  between  them  is  of  a  peculiar 
kind.  Erom  their  infancy,  they  have  been  in- 
tended for  each  other.  It  was  the  favorite  wish  of 
his  mother,  as  well  as  of  hers.  While  in  their 
cradles  we  planned  the  union;  and  now,  at  the 
moment  when  the  wishes  of  both  sisters  would  be 
accomplished  in  their  marriage,  to  be  prevented  by 
a  young  woman  of  inferior  birth,  of  no  importance 
in  the  world,  and  wholly  unallied  to  the  family! 
Do  you  pay  no  regard  to  the  wishes  of  his  friends, 
to  his  tacit  engagement  with  Miss  de  Bourgh? 
Are  you  lost  to  every  feeling  of  propriety  and 
delicacy?  Have  you  not  heard  me  say  that  from 
his  earliest  hours  he  was  destined  for  his  cousin?  " 

Yes;  and  I  had  heard  it  before.  But  what  is 
that  to  me?  If  there  is  no  other  objection  to  my 
marrying  your  nephew,  I  shall  certainly  not  be 
kept  from  it  by  knowing  that  his  mother  and  aunt 
wished  him  to  marry  Miss  de  Bourgh.  You  both 
did  as  much  as  you  could  in  planning  the  mar- 
riage. Its  completion  depended  on  others.  If 
Mr.  Darcy  is  neither  by  honor  nor  inclination  con- 
fined to  his  cousin,  why  is  not  he  to  make  another 
choice?  And  if  I  am  that  choice,  why  may  not  I 
accept  him? 

Because  honor,  decorum,  prudence,  nay-  in- 
terest, forbid  it.    Yes,  Miss  Bennet,  interest  for 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


239 


do  not  expect  to  be  noticed  by  his  family  or  friends 
if  you  wilfully  act  against  the  inclinations  of  all. 
You  will  be  censured,  slighted,  and  despised  by 
every  one  connected  with  him.  Your  alliance  will 
be  a  disgrace;  your  name  will  never  even  be  men- 
tioned by  any  of  us." 

"These  are  heavy  misfortunes,''  replied  Eliza- 
beth. "But  the  wife  of  Mr.  Darcy  must  have 
such  extraordinary  sources  of  happiness  necessarily 
attached  to  her  situation,  that  she  could,  upon  the 
whole,  have  no  cause  to  repine." 

"Obstinate,  headstrong  girl!  I  am  ashamed  of 
you!  Is  this  your  gratitude  for  my  attentions  to 
you  last  spring?  Is  nothing  due  to  me  on  that 
score?  Let  us  sit  down.  You  are  to  understand. 
Miss  Bennet,  that  I  came  here  with  the  deter- 
mined resolution  of  carrying  my  purpose ;  nor  will 
I  be  dissuaded  from  it.  I  have  not  been  used  to 
submit  to  any  person's  whims.  I  have  not  been 
in  the  habit  of  brooking  disappointment." 

"That  will  make  your  Ladyship's  situation  at 
present  more  pitiable;  but  it  will  have  no  effect 
on  me." 

"I  will  not  be  interrupted!  Hear  me  in  si- 
lence. My  daughter  and  my  nephew  are  formed 
for  each  other.  They  are  descended,  on  the  ma- 
ternal side,  from  the  same  noble  line;  and  on  the 
father's,  from  respectable,  honorable,  and  ancient, 
though  untitled  families.    Their  fortune  on  both 


240  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


sides  is  splendid.  They  are  destined  for  each 
other  by  the  voice  of  every  member  of  their  re- 
spective houses;  and  what  is  to  divide  them?  — 
the  upstart  pretensions  of  a  young  woman  without 
family,  connections,  or  fortune!  Is  this  to  be 
endured?  But  it  must  not,  shall  not  be!  If  you 
were  sensible  of  your  own  good,  you  would  not 
wish  to  quit  the  sphere  in  which  you  have  been 
brought  up." 

**Iii  marrying  your  nephew,  I  should  not  con- 
sider myself  as  quitting  that  sphere.  He  is  a 
gentleman;  I  am  a  gentleman's  daughter:  so  far 
we  are  equal.'' 

**True.  You  are  a  gentleman's  daughter.  But 
what  was  your  mother?  Who  are  your  uncles  and 
aunts?  Do  not  imagine  me  ignorant  of  their 
condition." 

Whatever  my  connections  may  be,"  said  Eliz- 
abeth, ^^if  your  nephew  does  not  object  to  them^ 
they  can  be  nothing  to  you." 

"  Tell  me,  once  for  all,  are  you  engaged  to  him?  " 

Though  Elizabeth  would  not,  for  the  mere  pur- 
pose of  obliging  Lady  Catherine,  have  answered 
this  question,  she  could  not  but  say,  after  a  mo- 
ment's deliberation,  — 

<a  am  not." 

Lady  Catherine  seemed  pleased. 
"And  will  you  promise  me  never  to  enter  into 
such  an  engagement?" 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  241 


will  make  no  promise  of  the  kind." 

^*Miss  Bennet,  I  am  shocked  and  astonished. 
I  expected  to  find  a  more  reasonable  young  woman. 
But  do  not  deceive  yourself  into  a  belief  that  I  will 
ever  recede.  I  shall  not  go  away  till  you  have 
given  me  the  assurance  I  require." 

And  I  certainly  never  shall  give  it.  I  am  not 
to  be  intimidated  into  anything  so  wholly  unrea- 
sonable. Your  Ladyship  wants  Mr.  Darcy  to 
marry  your  daughter;  but  would  my  giving  you 
the  wished-for  promise  make  their  marriage  at  all 
more  probable?  Supposing  him  to  be  attached  to 
me,  would  my  refusing  to  accept  his  hand  make 
him  wish  to  bestow  it  on  his  cousin?  Allow  me 
to  say,  Lady  Catherine,  that  the  arguments  with 
which  you  have  supported  this  extraordinary  appli- 
cation have  been  as  frivolous  as  the  application 
was  ill-judged.  You  have  widely  mistaken  my 
character,  if  you  think  I  can  be  worked  on  by  such 
persuasions  as  these.  How  far  your  nephew  might 
approve  of  your  interference  in  his  affairs,  I  cannot 
tell;  but  you  have  certainly  no  right  to  concern 
yourself  in  mine.  I  must  beg,  therefore,  to  be 
importuned  no  further  on  the  subject." 

^^Not  so  hasty,  if  you  please.  I  have  by  no 
means  done.  To  all  the  objections  I  have  already 
urged  I  have  still  another  to  add.  I  am  no 
stranger  to  the  particulars  of  your  youngest  sis- 
ter's infamous  elopement.    I  know  it  aU ;  that  the 

VOL.  II.  — 16 


242  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


young  man's  marrying  her  was  a  patched-up  busi- 
ness, at  the  expense  of  your  father  and  uncle. 
And  is  such  a  girl  to  be  my  nephew's  sister?  Is 
her  husband,  who  is  the  son  of  his  late  father's 
steward,  to  be  his  brother?  Heaven  and  earth! 
of  what  are  you  thinking?  Are  the  shades  of 
Pemberley  to  be  thus  polluted?  '* 

^^You  can  now  have  nothing  further  to  say,'* 
she  resentfully  answered.  You  have  insulted 
me  in  every  possible  method.  I  must  beg  to 
return  to  the  house.'' 

And  she  rose  as  she  spoke.  Lady  Catherine 
rose  also,  and  they  turned  back.  Her  Ladyship 
was  highly  incensed. 

^^You  have  no  regard,  then,  for  the  honor  and 
credit  of  my  nephew!  Unfeeling,  selfish  girl! 
Do  you  not  consider  that  a  connection  with  you 
must  disgrace  him  in  the  eyes  of  everybody?  " 

^^Lady  Catherine,  I  have  nothing  further  to 
say.    You  know  my  sentiments." 

You  are  then  resolved  to  have  him?" 

'^I  have  said  no  such  thing.  I  am  only  re- 
solved to  act  in  that  manner  which  will,  in  my 
own  opinion,  constitute  my  happiness,  without 
reference  to  you,  or  to  any  person  so  wholly  un- 
connected with  me." 

^*It  is  well.  You  refuse,  then,  to  oblige  me. 
You  refuse  to  obey  the  claims  of  duty,  honor,  and 
gratitude.    You  are  determined  to  ruin  him  in  the 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


243 


opinion  of  all  his  friends,  and  make  him  the  con- 
tempt of  the  world." 

Neither  duty  nor  honor  nor  gratitude,"  re- 
plied Elizabeth,  '^has  any  possible  claim  on  me 
in  the  present  instance.  No  principle  of  either 
would  be  violated  by  my  marriage  with  Mr.  Darcy. 
And  with  regard  to  the  resentment  of  his  family, 
or  the  indignation  of  the  world,  if  the  former  were 
excited  by  his  marrying  me,  it  would  not  give 
me  one  moment's  concern,  —  and  the  world  in 
general  would  have  too  much  sense  to  join  in  the 
scorn." 

*^And  this  is  your  real  opinion!  This  is  your 
final  resolve !  Very  well.  I  shall  now  know  how 
to  act.  Do  not  imagine.  Miss  Bennet,  that  your 
ambition  will  ever  be  gratified.  I  came  to  try  you. 
I  hoped  to  find  you  reasonable;  but  depend  upon 
it,  I  will  carry  my  point." 

In  this  manner  Lady  Catherine  talked  on  till 
they  were  at  the  door  of  the  carriage,  when,  turn- 
ing hastily  round,  she  added,  — 

^^I  take  no  leave  of  you.  Miss  Bennet.  I  send 
no  compliments  to  your  mother.  You  deserve  no 
such  attention.    I  am  most  seriously  displeased." 

Elizabeth  made  no  answer;  and  without  attempt- 
ing to  persuade  her  Ladyship  to  return  into  the 
house,  walked  quietly  into  it  herself.  She  heard 
the  carriage  drive  away  as  she  proceeded  upstairs. 
Her  mother  impatiently  met  her  at  the  door  of  her 


244 


PRIDE 'AND  PREJUDICE. 


dressing-room,  to  ask  why  Lady  Catherine  would 
not  come  in  again  and  rest  herself. 

^^She  did  not  choose  it/'  said  her  daughter; 
*^she  would  go.'' 

^^She  is  a  very  fine-looking  woman,  and  her 
calling  here  was  prodigiously  civil!  for  she  only 
came,  I  suppose,  to  tell  us  the  Collinses  were  well. 
She  is  on  her  road  somewhere,  I  dare  say;  and  so, 
passing  through  Meryton,  thought  she  might  as 
well  call  on  you.  I  suppose  she  had  nothing  par- 
ticular to  say  to  you,  Lizzy? " 

Elizabeth  was  forced  to  give  in  to  a  little  false- 
hood here;  for  to  acknowledge  the  substance  of 
their  conversation  was  impossible. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 


The  discomposure  of  spirits  which  this  extraordi 
nary  visit  threw  Elizabeth  into  could  not  be  easily 
overcome,  nor  could  she  for  many  hours  learn  to 
think  of  it  less  than  incessantly.  Lady  Catherine, 
it  appeared,  had  actually  taken  the  trouble  of  this 
journey  from  K.osings  for  the  sole  purpose  of  break- 
ing off  her  supposed  engagement  with  Mr.  Darcy. 
It  was  a  rational  scheme,  to  be  sure ;  but  from  what 
the  report  of  their  engagement  could  originate, 
Elizabeth  was  at  a  loss  to  imagine,  till  she  recol- 
lected that  his  being  the  intimate  friend  of  Bing- 
ley,  and  her  being  the  sister  of  Jane,  was  enough, 
at  a  time  when  the  expectation  of  one  wedding 
made  everybody  eager  for  another,  to  supply  the 
idea.  She  had  not  herself  forgotten  to  feel  that 
the  marriage  of  her  sister  must  bring  them  more 
frequently  together.  And  her  neighbors  at  Lucas 
Lodge,  therefore  (for  through  their  communica- 
tion with  the  Collinses  the  report,  she  concluded, 
had  reached  Lady  Catherine),  had  only  set  that 
down  as  almost  certain  and  immediate  which  she 
had  looked  forward  to  as  possible  at  some  future 
time. 


246  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


In  revolving  Lady  Catherine's  expressions,  how- 
ever, she  could  not  help  feeling  some  uneasiness 
as  to  the  possible  consequence  of  her  persisting  in 
this  interference.  Trom  what  she  had  said  of  her 
resolution  to  prevent  the  marriage,  it  occurred  to 
Elizabeth  that  she  must  meditate  an  application 
to  her  nephew;  and  how  he  might  take  a  similar 
representation  of  the  evils  attached  to  a  connection 
with  her  she  dared  not  pronounce.  She  knew  not 
the  exact  degree  of  his  affection  for  his  aunt,  or 
his  dependence  on  her  judgment,  but  it  was  nat- 
ural to  suppose  that  he  thought  much  higher  of 
her  Ladyship  than  she  could  do;  and  it  was  cer- 
tain that  in  enumerating  the  miseries  of  a  mar- 
riage with  one  whose  immediate  connections  were 
so  unequal  to  his  own,  his  aunt  would  address  him 
on  his  weakest  side.  With  his  notions  of  dignity, 
he  would  probably  feel  that  the  arguments  which 
to  Elizabeth  had  appeared  weak  and  ridiculous 
contained  much  good  sense  and  solid  reasoning. 

If  he  had  been  wavering  before  as  to  what  he 
should  do,  which  had  often  seemed  likely,  the 
advice  and  entreaty  of  so  near  a  relation  might 
settle  every  doubt,  and  determine  him  at  once  to 
be  as  happy  as  dignity  unblemished  could  make 
him.  In  that  case  he  would  return  no  more. 
Lady  Catherine  might  see  him  in  her  way  through 
town;  and  his  engagement  to  Bingley  of  coming 
again  to  Netherfield  must  give  way. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  247 


''If,  therefore,  an  excuse  for  not  keeping  his 
promise  should  come  to  his  friend  within  a  few 
days,''  she  added,  '^I  shall  know  how  to  under- 
stand it.  I  shall  then  give  over  every  expectation, 
every  wish  of  his  constancy.  If  he  is  satisfied 
with  only  regretting  me,  when  he  might  have  ob- 
tained my  affections  and  hand,  I  shall  soon  cease 
to  regret  him  at  all." 

The  surprise  of  the  rest  of  the  family,  on  hear- 
ing who  their  visitor  had  been,  was  very  great; 
but  they  obligingly  satisfied  it  with  the  same  kind 
of  supposition  which  had  appeased  Mrs.  Bennet's 
curiosity,  and  Elizabeth  was  spared  from  much 
teasing  on  the  subject. 

The  next  morning,  as  she  was  going  down- 
stairs, she  was  met  by  her  father,  who  came  out 
of  his  library  with  a  letter  in  his  hand. 

''Lizzy,"  said  he,  "I  was  going  to  look  for 
you:  come  into  my  room." 

She  followed  him  thither;  and  her  curiosity  to 
know  what  he  had  to  tell  her  was  heightened  by 
the  supposition  of  its  being  in  some  manner  con- 
nected with  the  letter  he  held.  It  suddenly  struck 
her  that  it  might  be  from  Lady  Catherine,  and 
she  anticipated  with  dismay  all  the  consequent 
explanations. 

She  followed  her  father  to  the  fireplace,  and 
they  both  sat  down.    He  then  said,  — 

"I  have  received  a  letter  this  morning  that  has 


248 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


astonished  me  exceedingly.  As  it  principally 
concerns  yourself,  you  ought  to  know  its  contents. 
I  did  not  know  before  that  I  had  two  daughters 
on  the  brink  of  matrimony.  Let  me  congratulate 
you  on  a  very  important  conquest." 

The  color  now  rushed  into  Elizabeth's  cheeks  in 
the  instantaneous  conviction  of  its  being  a  letter 
from  the  nephew,  instead  of  the  aunt;  and  she 
was  undetermined  whether  most  to  be  pleased 
that  he  explained  himself  at  all,  or  offended  that 
his  letter  was  not  rather  addressed  to  herself, 
when  her  father  continued,  — 

You  look  conscious.  Young  ladies  have  great 
penetration  in  such  matters  as  these;  but  I  think 
I  may  defy  even  your  sagacity  to  discover  the 
name  of  your  admirer.  This  letter  is  from  Mr. 
Collins." 

'^From  Mr.  Collins!  and  what  can  he  have  to 
say?" 

Something  very  much  to  the  purpose,  of  course. 
He  begins  with  congratulations  on  the  approach- 
ing nuptials  of  my  eldest  daughter,  of  which  it 
seems  he  has  been  told  by  some  of  the  good- 
natured,  gossiping  Lucases.  I  shall  not  sport 
with  your  impatience  by  reading  what  he  says 
on  that  point.  What  relates  to  yourself  is  as 
follows :  — 

*  Having  thus  offered  you  the  sincere  congratulations 
of  Mrs.  Collins  and  myself  on  this  happy  event,  let  me 


PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


249 


now  add  a  short  hint  on  the  subject  of  another,  of  which 
we  have  been  advertised  by  the  same  authority.  Your 
daughter  Elizabeth,  it  is  presumed,  will  not  long  bear 
the  name  of  Bennet,  after  her  eldest  sister  has  resigned 
it ;  and  the  chosen  partner  of  her  fate  may  be  reasonably 
looked  up  to  as  one  of  the  most  illustrious  personages  in 
this  land.' 

*'Caii  you  possibly  guess,  Lizzy,  who  is  meant 
by  this? 

*  This  young  gentleman  is  blessed,  in  a  peculiar  way, 
with  everything  the  heart  of  mortal  can  most  desire,  — 
splendid  property,  noble  kindred,  and  extensive  patron- 
age. Yet,  in  spite  of  all  these  temptations,  let  me  warn 
my  cousin  Elizabeth  and  yourself  of  what  evils  you  may 
incur  by  a  precipitate  closure  with  this  gentleman's  pro- 
posals, which,  of  course,  you  will  be  inclined  to  take 
immediate  advantage  of.' 

**Have  you  any  idea,  Lizzy,  who  this  gentleman 
is?    But  now  it  comes  out. 

*  My  motive  for  cautioning  you  is  as  follows  :  we  have 
reason  to  imagine  that  his  aunt,  Lady  Catherine  de 
Bourgh,  does  not  look  on  the  match  with  a  friendly  eye.' 

**Mr.  Darcy,  you  see,  is  the  man!  Now,  Lizzy, 
I  think  I  have  surprised  you.  Could  he  or  the 
Lucases  have  pitched  on  any  man  within  the 
circle  of  our  acquaintance  whose  name  would  have 
given  the  lie  more  effectually  to  what  they  related? 
Mr.  Darcy,  who  never  looks  at  any  woman  but  to 
see  a  blemish,  and  who  probably  never  looked  at 
you  in  his  life!    It  is  admirable!" 


250  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


Elizabeth  tried  to  join  in  her  father's  pleas- 
antry, but  could  only  force  one  most  reluctant 
smile.  Never  had  his  wit  been  directed  in  a 
manner  so  little  agreeable  to  her. 

^^Are  you  not  diverted?^' 

^^Oh,  yes.    Pray  read  on.'' 

"  '  After  mentioning  the  likelihood  of  this  marriage  to 
her  Ladyship  last  night,  she  immediately,  with  her  usual 
condescension,  expressed  what  she  felt  on  the  occasion  ; 
when  it  became  apparent  that  on  the  score  of  some 
family  objections  on  the  part  of  my  cousin  she  would 
never  give  her  consent  to  what  she  termed  so  disgraceful 
a  match.  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  give  the  speediest  in- 
telligence of  this  to  my  cousin,  that  she  and  her  noble 
admirer  may  be  aware  of  what  they  are  about,  and  not 
run  hastily  into  a  marriage  which  has  not  been  properly 
sanctioned.' 

'^Mr.  Collins,  moreover,  adds,  — 

*I  am  truly  rejoiced  that  my  cousin  Lydia's  sad  busi- 
ness has  been  so  well  hushed  up,  and  am  only  concerned 
that  their  living  together  before  the  marriage  took  place 
should  be  so  generally  known.  I  must  not,  however, 
neglect  the  duties  of  my  station,  or  refrain  from  declar- 
ing my  amazement,  at  hearing  that  you  received  the 
young  couple  into  your  house  as  soon  as  they  were 
married.  It  was  an  encouragement  of  vice  ;  and  had  I 
been  the  rector  of  Longbourn,  I  should  very  strenuously 
have  opposed  it.  You  ought  certainly  to  forgive  them  as 
a  Christian,  but  never  to  admit  them  in  your  sight,  or 
allow  their  names  to  be  mentioned  in  your  hearing.' 

*^That  is  his  notion  of  Christian  forgiveness! 
The  rest  of  his  letter  is  only  about  his  dear  Char- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


251 


lotte's  situation,  and  his  expectation  of  a  young 
olive-branch.  But,  Lizzy,  you  look  as  if  you 
did  not  enjoy  it.  You  are  not  going  to  be 
missish,  I  hope,  and  pretend  to  be  affronted  at 
an  idle  report.  For  what  do  we  live,  but  to  make 
sport  for  our  neighbors,  and  laugh  at  them  in 
our  turn?" 

^^Oh,"  cried  Elizabeth,  ^^I  am  exceedingly 
diverted.     But  it  is  so  strange! 

''Yes;  that  is  what  makes  it  amusing.  Had 
they  fixed  on  any  other  man,  it  would  have  been 
nothing;  but  his  perfect  indifference  and  your 
pointed  dislike  make  it  so  delightfully  absurd! 
Much  as  I  abominate  writing,  I  would  not  give  up 
Mr.  Collinses  correspondence  for  any  consideration. 
Nay,  when  I  read  a  letter  of  his,  I  cannot  help 
giving  him  the  preference  even  over  Wickham, 
much  as  I  value  the  impudence  and  hypocrisy  of 
my  son-in-law.  And  pray,  Lizzy,  what  said  Lady 
Catherine  about  this  report?  Did  she  call  to 
refuse  her  consent?" 

To  this  question  his  daughter  replied  only  with 
a  laugh;  and  as  it  had  been  asked  without  the 
least  suspicion,  she  was  not  distressed  by  his  re- 
peating it.  Elizabeth  had  never  been  more  at  a 
loss  to  make  her  feelings  appear  what  they  were 
not.  It  was  necessary  to  laugh  when  she  would 
rather  have  cried.    Her  father  had  most  cruelly 


252 


PRIDE  AND  mEJUDICE. 


mortified  her  by  what  he  said  of  Mr.  Darcy's  in- 
difference; and  she  could  do  nothing  but  wonder 
at  such  a  want  of  penetration,  or  fear  that  per- 
haps, instead  of  his  seeing  too  little,  she  might 
have  fancied  too  much. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


Instead  of  receiving  any  such  letter  of  excuse 
from  his  friend,  as  Elizabeth  half  expected  Mr. 
Bingley  to  do,  he  was  able  to  bring  Darcy  with 
him  to  Longbourn  before  many  days  had  passed 
after  Lady  Catherine's  visit.  The  gentlemen  ar- 
rived early;  and  before  Mrs.  Bennet  had  time  to 
tell  him  of  their  having  seen  his  aunt,  of  which 
her  daughter  sat  in  momentary  dread,  Bingley, 
who  wanted  to  be  alone  with  Jane,  proposed  their 
all  walking  out.  It  was  agreed  to.  Mrs.  Bennet 
was  not  in  the  habit  of  walking,  Mary  could  never 
spare  time,  but  the  remaining  five  set  off  together. 
Bingley  and  Jane,  however,  soon  allowed  the 
others  to  outstrip  them.  They  lagged  behind j 
while  Elizabeth,  Kitty,  and  Darcy  were  to  enter- 
tain each  other.  Very  little  was  said  by  either: 
Kitty  was  too  much  afraid  of  him  to  talk;  Eliza- 
beth was  secretly  forming  a  desperate  resolution; 
and,  perhaps,  he  might  be  doing  the  same. 

They  walked  towards  the  Lucases,  because  Kitty 
wished  to  call  upon  Maria;  and  as  Elizabeth  saw 
no  occasion  for  making  it  a  general  concern,  when 
Kitty  left  them,  she  went  boldly  on  with  him 


254 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


alone.  Now  was  the  moment  for  her  resolution  to 
be  executed;  and  while  her  courage  was  high,  she 
immediately  said,  — 

^^Mr.  Darcy,  I  am  a  very  selfish  creature,  and 
for  the  sake  of  giving  relief  to  my  own  feelings 
care  not  how  much  I  may  be  wounding  yours.  I 
can  no  longer  help  thanking  you  for  your  unex- 
ampled kindness  to  my  poor  sister.  Ever  since  I 
have  known  it  I  have  been  most  anxious  to  acknowl- 
edge to  you  how  gratefully  I  feel  it.  Were  it 
known  to  the  rest  of  my  family,  I  should  not  have 
merely  my  own  gratitude  to  express. 

^'1  am  sorry,  exceedingly  sorry,"  replied  Darcy, 
in  a  tone  of  surprise  and  emotion,  ^^that  you  have 
ever  been  informed  of  what  may,  in  a  mistaken 
light,  have  given  you  uneasiness.  I  did  not  think 
Mrs.  Gardiner  was  so  little  to  be  trusted." 

^^You  must  not  blame  my  aunt.  Lydia's 
thoughtlessness  first  betrayed  to  me  that  you  had 
been  concerned  in  the  matter;  and,  of  course,  I 
could  not  rest  till  I  knew  the  particulars.  Let  me 
thank  you  again  and  again,  in  the  name  of  all  my 
family,  for  that  generous  compassion  which  induced 
you  to  take  so  much  trouble  and  bear  so  many 
mortifications  for  the  sake  of  discovering  them.'' 

'^If  you  will  thank  me,"  he  replied,  ^'\et  it  be 
for  yourself  alone.  That  the  wish  of  giving  hap- 
piness to  you  might  add  force  to  the  other  induce- 
ments which  led  me  on,  T  shall  not  attempt  to 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


255 


deny.  But  your  family  owe  me  nothing.  Much 
as  I  respect  them,  I  believe  I  thought  only  of 
you.'' 

Elizabeth  was  too  much  embarrassed  to  say  a 
word.    After  a  short  pause  her  companion  added ; 

You  are  too  generous  to  trifle  with  me.  If  your 
feelings  are  still  what  they  were  last  April,  tell 
me  so  at  once.  My  affections  and  wishes  are  un- 
changed; but  one  word  from  you  will  silence  me 
on  this  subject  forever." 

Elizabeth,  feeling  all  the  more  than  common 
awkwardness  and  anxiety  for  his  situation,  now 
forced  herself  to  speak;  and  immediately,  though 
not  very  fluently,  gave  him  to  understand  that 
her  sentiments  had  undergone  so  material  a  change 
since  the  period  to  which  he  alluded  as  to  make 
her  receive  with  gratitude  and  pleasure  his  present 
assurances.  The  happiness  which  this  reply  pro- 
duced was  such  as  he  had  probably  never  felt 
before;  and  he  expressed  himself  on  the  occasion 
as  sensibly  and  as  warmly  as  a  man  violently  in 
love  can  be  supposed  to  do.  Had  Elizabeth  been 
able  to  encounter  his  eyes,  she  might  have  seen 
how  well  the  expression  of  heartfelt  delight,  dif- 
fused over  his  face,  became  him:  but  though  she 
could  not  look,  she  could  listen ;  and  he  told  her  of 
feelings  which,  in  proving  of  what  importance  she 
was  to  him,  made  his  affection  every  moment  more 
valuable. 


256  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


They  walked  on  without  knowing  in  what  di- 
rection. There  was  too  much  to  be  thought  and 
felt  and  said,  for  attention  to  any  other  objects. 
She  soon  learned  that  they  were  indebted  for  their 
present  good  understanding  to  the  efforts  of  his 
aunt,  who  did  call  on  him  in  her  return  through 
London,  and  there  relate  her  journey  to  Long- 
bourn,  its  motive,  and  the  substance  of  her  con- 
versation with  Elizabeth;  dwelling  emphatically 
on  every  expression  of  the  latter  which  in  her 
Ladyship's  apprehension  peculiarly  denoted  her 
perverseness  and  assurance  in  the  belief  that  such 
a  relation  must  assist  her  endeavors  to  obtain  that 
promise  from  her  nephew  which  she  had  refused  to 
give.  But  unluckily  for  her  Ladyship,  its  effect 
had  been  exactly  contrariwise. 

^^It  taught  me  to  hope,"  said  he,  ^^as  I  had 
scarcely  ever  allowed  myself  to  hope  before.  I 
knew  enough  of  your  disposition  to  be  certain 
that  had  you  been  absolutely,  irrevocably  decided 
against  me,  you  would  have  acknowledged  it  to 
Lady  Catherine  frankly  and  openly." 

Elizabeth  colored  and  laughed  as  she  replied: 

Yes,  you  know  enough  of  my  frankness  to  believe 
me  capable  of  that.  After  abusing  you  so  abomina- 
bly to  your  face,  I  could  have  no  scruple  in  abus- 
ing you  to  all  your  relations." 

^^What  did  you  say  of  me  that  I  did  not 
deserve?    For  though  youv  accusations  were  ill- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  257 


founded,  formed  on  mistaken  premises,  my  be- 
havior to  you  at  the  time  had  merited  the  severest 
reproof.    It  was  unpardonable.    I  cannot  think  o 
it  without  abhorrence.'' 

^'We  will  not  quarrel  for  the  greater  share  of 
blame  annexed  to  that  evening,"  said  Elizabeth. 
^^The  conduct  of  neither,  if  strictly  examined, 
will  be  irreproachable;  but  since  then  we  have 
both,  I  hope,  improved  in  civility." 

^'I  cannot  be  so  easily  reconciled  to  myself. 
The  recollection  of  what  I  then  said,  of  my  con- 
duct, my  manners,  my  expressions  during  the 
whole  of  it,  is  now,  and  has  been  many  months, 
inexpressibly  painful  to  me.  Your  reproof,  so 
well  applied,  I  shall  never  forget:  'Had  you  be- 
haved in  a  more  gentlemanlike  manner.'  Those 
were  your  words.  You  know  not,  you  can  scarcely 
conceive,  how  they  have  tortured  me;  though  it 
was  some  time,  I  confess,  before  I  was  reasonable 
enough  to  allow  their  justice." 

I  was  certainly  very  far  from  expecting  them  to 
make  so  strong  an  impression.  I  had  not  the  small- 
est idea  of  their  being  ever  felt  in  such  a  way." 

^'I  can  easily  believe  it.  You  thought  me  then 
devoid  of  every  proper  feeling,  I  am  sure  you  did. 
The  turn  of  your  countenance  I  shall  never  forget, 
as  you  said  that  I  could  not  have  addressed  you  in 
any  possible  way  that  would  induce  you  to  accept 
me.'' 

VOL.  II.  — 17 


258  PRroE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


^'  Oh,  do  not  repeat  what  I  then  said.  These 
recollections  will  not  do  at  all.  I  assure  you  that 
I  have  long  been  most  heartily  ashamed  of  it.'' 

Darcy  mentioned  his  letter.  "  Did  it,"  said  he, 
—  ^'did  it  soon  make  you  think  better  of  me? 
Did  you,  on  reading  it,  give  any  credit  to  its 
contents?  " 

She  explained  what  its  effects  on  her  had  been, 
and  how  gradually  all  her  former  prejudices  had 
been  removed. 

^'1  knew,"  said  he,  ^^that  what  I  wrote  must 
give  you  pain,  but  it  was  necessary.  I  hope  you 
have  destroyed  the  letter.  There  was  one  part, 
especially  the  opening  of  it,  which  I  should  dread 
your  having  the  power  of  reading  again.  I  can 
remember  some  expressions  which  might  justly 
make  you  hate  me.'' 

* '  The  letter  shall  certainly  be  burned,  if  you  be- 
lieve it  essential  to  the  preservation  of  my  regard; 
but  though  we  have  both  reason  to  think  my  opin- 
ions not  entirely  unalterable,  they  are  not,  I  hope, 
quite  so  easily  changed  as  that  implies." 

^'When  I  wrote  that  letter,"  replied  Darcy,  ^^I 
believed  myself  perfectly  calm  and  cool;  but  I  am 
since  convinced  that  it  was  written  in  a  dreadful 
bitterness  of  spirit." 

^^The  letter,  perhaps,  began  in  bitterness,  but 
it  did  not  end  so.  The  adieu  is  charity  itself. 
But  think  no  more  of  the  letter.    The  feelings  of 


PEIDE  AND  rUEJUDICE. 


259 


the  person  who  wrote  and  the  person  who  received 
it  are  now  so  widely  different  from  what  they  were 
then,  that  every  unpleasant  circumstance  attending 
it  ought  to  be  forgotten.  You  must  learn  some  of 
my  philosophy.  Think  only  of  the  past  as  its  re- 
membrance gives  you  pleasure. 

^^I  cannot  give  you  credit  for  any  philosophy  of 
the  kind.  Your  retrospections  must  be  so  totally 
void  of  reproach,  that  the  contentment  arising 
from  them  is  not  of  philosophy,  but,  what  is  much 
better,  of  ignorance.  But  with  me  it  is  not  so. 
Painful  recollections  will  intrude,  which  cannot, 
which  ought  not  to  be  repelled.  I  have  been  a 
selfish  being  all  my  life,  in  practice,  though  not  in 
principle.  As  a  child  I  was  taught  what  was 
right,  but  I  was  not  taught  to  correct  my  temper. 
I  was  given  good  principles,  but  left  to  follow  them 
in  pride  and  conceit.  Unfortunately  an  only  son 
(for  many  years  an  only  child),  I  was  spoiled  by 
my  parents,  who,  though  good  themselves  (my 
father,  particularly,  al-l  that  was  benevolent  and 
amiable),  allowed,  encouraged,  almost  taught  me 
to  be  selfish  and  overbearing,  to  care  for  none  be- 
yond my  own  family  circle,  to  think  meanly  of  all 
the  rest  of  the  world,  to  wish  at  least  to  think 
meanly  of  their  sense  and  worth  compared  with  my 
own.  Such  I  was,  from  eight  to  eight-and-twenty; 
and  such  I  might  still  have  been  but  for  you,  dear- 
est, loveliest  Elizabeth!    What  do  I  not  owe  you! 


260 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


You  taught  me  a  lesson,  hard  indeed  at  first,  but 
most  advantageous.  By  you  I  was  properly  hum- 
bled. I  came  to  you  without  a  doubt  of  my  re- 
ception. You  showed  me  how  insufficient  were  all 
my  pretensions  to  please  a  woman  worthy  of  being 
pleased." 

^^Had  you  then  persuaded  yourself  that  I 
should?  " 

Indeed  I  had.  What  will  you  think  of  my 
vanity?  I  believed  you  to  be  wishing,  expecting 
my  addresses." 

^'  My  manners  must  have  been  in  fault,  but  not 
intentionally,  I  assure  you.  I  never  meant  to  de- 
ceive you,  but  my  spirits  might  often  lead  me 
wrong.  How  you  must  have  hated  me  after  that 
evening! 

^^Hate  you!  I  was  angry,  perhaps,  at  first,  but 
my  anger  soon  began  to  take  a  proper  direction. " 

I  am  almost  afraid  of  asking  what  you  thought 
of  me  when  we  met  at  Pemberley.  You  blamed 
me  for  coming?  " 

^'No,  indeed;  I  felt  nothing  but  surprise." 
Your  surprise  could  not  be  greater  than  mine 
in  being  noticed  by  you.  My  conscience  told  me 
that  I  deserved  no  extraordinary  politeness,  and  I 
confess  that  I  did  not  expect  to  receive  more  than 
my  due.'' 

My  object  then,"  replied  Darcy,  was  to  show 
you,  by  every  civility  in  my  power,  that  I  was  not 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


261 


do  mean  as  to  resent  the  past;  and  I  hoped  to  ob- 
tain your  forgiveness,  to  lessen  your  ill-opinion,  by 
letting  you  see  that  your  reproofs  had  been  at- 
tended to.  How  soon  any  other  wishes  introduced 
themselves,  I  can  hardly  tell,  but  I  believe  in 
about  half  an  hour  after  I  had  seen  you." 

He  then  told  her  of  Georgiana's  delight  in  her 
acquaintance,  and  of  her  disappointment  at  its  sud- 
den interruption;  which  naturally  leading  to  the 
cause  of  that  interruption,  she  soon  learned  that 
his  resolution  of  following  her  from  Derbyshire  in 
quest  of  her  sister  had  been  formed  before  he 
quitted  the  inn,  and  that  his  gravity  and  thought- 
fulness  there  had  arisen  from  no  other  struggles 
than  what  such  a  purpose  must  comprehend. 

She  expressed  her  gratitude  again,  but  it  was 
too  painful  a  subject  to  each  to  be  dwelt  on 
further. 

After  walking  several  miles  in  a  leisurely  man- 
ner, and  too  busy  to  know  anything  about  it,  they 
found  at  last,  on  examining  their  watches,  that  it 
was  time  to  be  at  home. 

What  could  have  become  of  Mr.  Bingley  and 
Jane !  "  was  a  wonder  which  introduced  the  discus- 
sion of  their  affairs.  Darcy  was  delighted  with  their 
engagement ;  his  friend  had  given  him  the  earliest 
information  of  it. 

must  ask  whether  you  were  surprised?  "  said 
Elizabeth. 


262  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


^^ISfot  at  all.  When  I  went  away,  I  felt  that  it 
would  soon  happen." 

^^That  is  to  say,  you  had  given  your  permission. 
I  guessed  as  much."  And  though  he  exclaimed 
at  the  term,  she  found  that  it  had  been  pretty 
much  the  case. 

^^On  the  evening  before  my  going  to  London, 
said  he,  I  made  a  confession  to  him,  which  I  be- 
lieve I  ought  to  have  made  long  ago.  I  told  him 
of  all  that  had  occurred  to  make  my  former  inter- 
ference in  his  affairs  absurd  and  impertinent.  His 
surprise  was  great.  He  had  never  had  the  slight- 
est suspicion.  I  told  him,  moreover,  that  I  be- 
lieved myself  mistaken  in  supposing,  as  I  had 
done,  that  your  sister  was  indifferent  to  him;  and 
as  I  could  easily  perceive  that  his  attachment  to 
her  was  unabated,  I  felt  no  doubt  of  their  happiness 
together." 

Elizabeth  could  not  help  smiling  at  his  easy 
manner  of  directing  his  friend. 

^^Did  you  speak  from  your  own  observation,'' 
said  she,  ^^when  you  told  him  that  my  sister 
loved  him,  or  merely  from  my  information  last 
spring? 

^^From  the  former.  I  had  narrowly  observed 
her,  during  the  two  visits  which  J  had  lately  made 
her  here ;  and  I  was  convinced  of  ner  affection. " 

*^And  your  assurance  of  it,  I  suppose,  carried 
immediate  conviction  to  him.'' 


PRIDE  AND  PllEJUDICE. 


263 


"  It  did.  Bingley  is  most  unaffectedly  modest. 
His  diffidence  had  prevented  his  depending  on  his 
own  judgment  in  so  anxious  a  case,  but  his  re- 
liance on  mine  made  everything  easy.  I  was 
obliged  to  confess  one  thing,  which  for  a  time,  and 
not  unjustly,  offended  him.  I  could  not  allow  my- 
self to  conceal  that  your  sister  had  been  in  town 
three  months  last  winter,  that  I  had  known  it,  and 
purposely  kept  it  from  him.  He  was  angry.  But 
his  anger,  I  am  persuaded,  lasted  no  longer  than  he 
remained  in  any  doubt  of  your  sister's  sentiments. 
He  has  heartily  forgiven  me  now.'' 

Elizabeth  longed  to  observe  that  Mr.  Bingley 
had  been  a  most  delightful  friend,  so  easily  guided 
that  his  worth  was  invaluable;  but  she  checked 
herself.  She  remembered  that  he  had  yet  to  learn 
to  be  laughed  at,  and  it  was  rather  too  early  to 
begin.  In  anticipating  the  happiness  of  Bingley, 
which  of  course  was  to  be  inferior  only  to  his  own, 
he  continued  the  conversation  till  they  reached  the 
house.    In  the  hall  they  parted. 


CHAPTEE  XXVI. 


"  My  dear  Lizzy,  where  can  you  have  been  walk- 
ing to?  was  a  question  which  Elizabeth  received 
from  Jane  as  soon  as  she  entered  the  room,  and 
from  all  the  others  when  they  sat  down  to  table. 
She  had  only  to  say,  in  reply,  that  they  had  wan- 
dered about  till  she  was  beyond  her  own  knowl- 
edge. She  colored  as  she  spoke;  but  neither  that 
nor  anything  else  awakened  a  suspicion  of  the 
truth. 

The  evening  passed  quietly,  unmarked  by  any- 
thing extraordinary.  The  acknowledged  lovers 
talked  and  laughed;  the  unacknowledged  were 
silent.  Darcy  was  not  of  a  disposition  in  which 
happiness  overflows  in  mirth;  and  Elizabeth,  agi- 
tated and  confused,  rather  knew  that  she  was  happy 
than/eZ^  herself  to  be  so;  for,  besides  the  immedi- 
ate embarrassment,  there  were  other  evils  before 
her.  She  anticipated  what  would  be  felt  in  the 
family  when  her  situation  became  known :  she  was 
aware  that  no  one  liked  him  but  Jane;  and  even 
feared  that  with  the  others  it  was  a  dislike  which 
not  all  his  fortune  and  consequence  might  do 
away. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  265 


At  night  she  opened  her  heart  to  Jane.  Though 
suspicion  was  very  far  from  Miss  Bennet's  general 
habits,  she  was  absolutely  incredulous  here. 

You  are  jot,ing,  Lizzy.  This  cannot  be !  En- 
gaged to  Mr.  Darcy !  No,  no,  you  shall  not  deceive 
me:  I  know  it  to  be  impossible." 

*^This  is  a  wretched  beginning,  indeed!  My 
sole  dependence  was  on  you;  and  I  am  sure  nobody 
else  will  believe  me,  if  you  do  not.  Yet,  indeed, 
I  am  in  earnest.  I  speak  nothing  but  the  truth. 
He  still  loves  me,  and  we  are  engaged.'' 

Jane  looked  at  her  doubtingly.  Oh,  Lizzy, 
it  cannot  be.  I  know  how  much  you  dislike 
him." 

You  know  nothing  of  the  matter.  That  is  all 
to  be  forgot.  Perhaps  I  did  not  always  love  him 
so  well  as  I  do  now;  but  in  such  cases  as  these,  a 
good  memory  is  unpardonable.  This  is  the  last 
time  I  shall  ever  remember  it  myself." 

Miss  Bennet  still  looked  all  amazement.  Eliza- 
beth again,  and  more  seriously,  assured  her  of  its 
truth. 

Good  Heaven!  can  it  be  really  so?  Yet  now  I 
must  believe  you,"  cried  Jane.  ^^My  dear,  dear 
Lizzy,  I  would,  I  do  congratulate  you ;  but  are  you 
certain  —  forgive  the  question  —  are  you  quite 
certain  that  you  can  be  happy  with  him?  " 

There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that.  It  is  settled 
between  us  already  that  we  are  to  be  the  happiest 


266  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


couple  in  the  world.  But  are  you  pleased,  Jane? 
Shall  you  like  to  have  such  a  brother? 

"Yery,  very  much.  Nothing  could  give  either 
Bingley  or  myself  more  delight.  But  we  consid- 
ered it,  we  talked  of  it  as  impossible.  And  do  you 
really  love  him  quite  well  enough?  Oh,  Lizzy, 
do  anything  rather  than  marry  without  affection. 
Are  you  quite  sure  that  you  feel  what  you  ought 
to  do?" 

^'Oh,  yes!    You  will  only  think  I  feel  more 
than  I  ought  to  do  when  I  tell  you  all.'' 
^'  What  do  you  mean?  " 

^'  Why,  I  must  confess  that  I  love  him  better  than 
I  do  Bingley.    I  am  afraid  you  will  be  angry.'' 

^'My  dearest  sister,  now  be,  be  serious.  I  want 
to  talk  very  seriously.  Let  me  know  everything 
that  I  am  to  know  without  delay.  Will  you  tell 
me  how  long  you  have  loved  him?  " 

^'It  has  been  coming  on  so  gradually  that  I 
hardly  know  when  it  began;  but  I  believe  I  must 
date  it  from  my  first  seeing  his  beautiful  grounds 
at  Pemberley." 

Another  entreaty  that  she  would  be  serious, 
however,  produced  the  desired  effect;  and  she  soon 
satisfied  Jane  by  her  solemn  assurances  of  attach- 
ment. When  convinced  on  that  article.  Miss 
Bennet  had  nothing  further  to  wish. 

^^Now  lam  quite  happy,"  said  she,  for  you 
W^ill  be  as  happy  as  myself.    I  always  had  a  value 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


267 


for  him.  Were  it  for  nothing  hut  his  love  of  you, 
I  must  always  have  esteemed  him;  hut  now,  as 
Bingley's  friend  and  your  hushand,  there  can  be 
only  Bingley  and  yourself  more  dear  to  me.  But, 
Lizzy,  you  have  been  very  sly,  very  reserved  with 
me.  How  little  did  you  tell  me  of  what  passed  at 
Pemherley  and  Lamhton!  I  owe  all  that  I  know 
of  it  to  another,  not  to  you.^' 

Elizabeth  told  her  the  motives  of  her  secrecy. 
She  had  been  unwilling  to  mention  Bingley;  and 
the  unsettled  state  of  her  own  feelings  had  made 
her  equally  avoid  the  name  of  his  friend :  but  now 
she  would  no  longer  conceal  from  her  his  share  in 
Lydia's  marriage.  All  was  acknowledged,  and 
half  the  night  spent  in  conversation. 

Good  gracious!  cried  Mrs.  Bennet,  as  she 
stood  at  a  window  the  next  morning,  if  that  dis- 
agreeable Mr.  Darcy  is  not  coming  here  again  with 
our  dear  Bingley!  What  can  he  mean  by  being 
so  tiresome  as  to  be  alwaj^s  coming  here?  I  had 
no  notion  but  he  would  go  a-shooting,  or  something 
or  other,  and  not  disturb  us  with  his  company. 
What  shall  we  do  with  him?  Lizzy,  you  must 
walk  out  with  him  again,  that  he  may  not  be  in 
Bingley's  way.'' 

Elizabeth  could  hardly  help  laughing  at  so  con- 
venient a  proposal,  yet  was  really  vexed  that  her 
mother  should  be  always  giving  him  such  an 
epithet. 


268  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


As  soon  as  they  entered,  Bingley  looked  at  her 
so  expressively,  and  shook  hands  with  such  warmth, 
as  left  no  doubt  of  his  good  information;  and  he 
soon  afterwards  said  aloud,  *^Mrs.  Bennet,  have 
you  no  more  lanes  hereabouts  in  which  Lizzy  may 
lose  her  way  again  to-day?  " 

^^I  advise  Mr.  Darcy  and  Lizzy  and  Kitty, 
said  Mrs.  Bennet,  ^^to  walk  to  Oakham  Mount 
this  morning.    It  is  a  nice  long  walk,  and  Mr. 
Darcy  has  never  seen  the  view.'' 

^^It  may  do  very  well  for  the  others,'*  replied 
Mr.  Bingley;  ^^but  I  am  sure  it  will  be  too  much 
for  Kitty.    Won't  it,  Kitty?  " 

Kitty  owned  that  she  had  rather  stay  at  home. 
Darcy  professed  a  great  curiosity  to  see  the  view 
from  the  Mount,  and  Elizabeth  silently  consented. 
As  she  went  upstairs  to  get  ready,  Mrs.  Bennet 
followed  her,  saying,  — 

am  quite  sorry,  Lizzy,  that  you  should  be 
forced  to  have  that  disagreeable  man  all  to  your- 
self; but  I  hope  you  will  not  mind  it.  It  is  all 
for  Jane's  sake,  you  know;  and  there  is  no  occa- 
sion for  talking  to  him  except  just  now  and  then, 
so  do  not  put  yourself  to  inconvenience." 

During  their  walk  it  was  resolved  that  Mr. 
Bennet's  consent  should  be  asked  in  the  course 
of  the  evening.  Elizabeth  reserved  to  herself  the 
application  for  her  mother's.  She  could  not  de- 
termine how  her  mother  would  take  it;  some- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


269 


times  doubting  whether  all  his  wealth  and  gran- 
#leur  would  be  enough  to  overcome  her  abhorrence 
of  the  man;  but  whether  she  were  violently  set 
*igainst  the  match,  or  violently  delighted  with 
it,  it  was  certain  that  her  manner  would  be 
equally  ill  adapted  to  do  credit  to  her  sense;  and 
'jh.e  could  no  more  bear  tliat  Mr.  Darcy  should 
hear  the  first  raptures  of  her  joy  than  the  first 
vehemence  of  her  disapprobation. 

In  the  evening,  soon  after  Mr.  Bennet  with- 
drew to  the  library,  she  saw  Mr.  Darcy  rise  also 
and  follow  him,  and  her  agitation  on  seeing  it 
was  extreme.  She  did  not  fear  her  father's  op- 
position, but  he  w^as  going  to  be  made  unhappy; 
and  that  it  should  be  through  her  means  —  that 
she,  his  favorite  child,  should  be  distressing  him 
by  her  choice,  should  be  filling  him  with  fears 
and  regrets  in  disposing  of  her  —  was  a  w^-etched 
reflection,  and  she  sat  in  misery  till  Mr.  Darcy 
appeared  again,  when,  looking  at  him,  she  wag 
a  little  relieved  by  his  smile.  In  a  few  minutes 
he  approached  the  table  where  she  was  sitting 
with  Kitty;  and  while  pretending  to  admire  her 
work,  said  in  a  whisper,  Go  to  your  father; 
he  wants  you  in  the  library.''  She  was  gone 
directly. 

Her  father  was  w^alking  about  the  room,  look- 
ing grave  and  anxious.  ^'  Lizzy,"  said  he,  what 
are  you  doing?    Are  you  out  of  your  senses  to 


270 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


be  accepting  this  man?  Have  not  you  always 
hated  him?'' 

How  earnestly  did  she  then  wish  that  her  for- 
mer opinions  had  been  more  reasonable,  her  ex- 
pressions more  moderate!  It  would  have  spared 
her  from  explanations  and  professions  which  it 
was  exceedingly  awkward  to  give;  but  they  were 
now  necessary,  and  she  assured  him,  with  some 
confusion,  of  her  attachment  to  Mr.  Darcy. 

^^Or,  in  other  words,  you  are  determined  to 
have  him.  He  is  rich,  to  be  sure,  and  you  may 
have  more  fine  clothes  and  fine  carriages  than 
Jane.    But  will  they  make  you  happy?  '' 

''Have  you  any  other  objection,''  said  Eliza- 
beth, ''than  your  belief  of  my  indifference?" 

"None  at  all.  We  all  know  him  to  be  a  proud, 
unpleasant  sort  of  man;  but  this  would  be  noth- 
ing if  you  really  liked  him." 

"I  do,  I  do  like  him,"  she  replied,  with  tears 
in  her  eyes;  "I  love  him.  Indeed  he  has  no  im- 
proper pride.  He  is  perfectly  amiable.  You  do 
not  know  what  he  really  is;  then  pray  do  not 
pain  me  by  speaking  of  him  in  such  terms." 

"Lizzy,"  said  her  father,  "I  have  given  him 
my  consent.  He  is  the  kind  of  man,  indeed,  to 
whom  I  should  never  dare  refuse  anything  which 
he  condescended  to  ask.  I  now  give  it  to  you, 
if  you  are  resolved  on  having  him.  But  let  me 
advise  you  to  think  better  of  it.    I  know  your 


Pride  and  Prejudice 

ould  not  have  parted  with  you,  Lizzy,  to  any  one 
less  worthy.'       Vol.  II.,  p.  271. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


271 


disposition,  Lizzy.  I  know  that  you  could  be 
neither  happy  nor  respectable  unless  you  truly 
esteemed  your  husband,  unless  you  looked  up  to 
him  as  a  superior.  Your  lively  talents  would 
place  you  in  the  greatest  danger  in  an  unequal 
marriage.  You  could  scarcely  escape  discredit 
and  misery.  My  child,  let  me  not  have  the  grief 
of  seeing  you  unable  to  respect  your  partner  in 
life.    You  know  not  what  you  are  about.'' 

Elizabeth,  still  more  affected,  was  earnest  and 
solemn  in  her  reply;  and  at  length,  by  repeated 
assurances  that  Mr.  Darcy  was  really  the  object 
of  her  choice,  by  explaining  the  gradual  change 
which  her  estimation  of  him  had  undergone,  re- 
lating her  absolute  certainty  that  his  affection 
was  not  the  work  of  a  day,  but  had  stood  the  test 
of  many  months'  suspense,  and  enumerating  with 
energy  all  his  good  qualities,  she  did  conquer 
her  father's  incredulity,  and  reconcile  him  to  the 
match. 

'^Well,  my  dear,"  said  he,  when  she  ceased 
speaking,  ^^I  have  no  more  to  say.  If  this  be 
the  case,  he  deserves  you.  I  could  not  have 
parted  with  you,  my  Lizzy,  to  any  one  less 
worthy. " 

To  complete  the  favorable  impression,  she  then 
told  him  what  Mr.  Darcj^  had  voluntarily  done 
for  Lydia.    He  heard  her  with  astonishment. 

**This  is  an  evening  of  wonders,  indeed!  And 


272 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


so  Darcy  did  everything;  made  up  the  match,  gave 
the  money,  paid  the  fellow's  debts,  and  got  him 
his  commission!  So  much  the  better.  It  will 
save  me  a  world  of  trouble  and  economy.  Had  it 
been  your  uncle's  doing,  I  must  and  would  have 
paid  him;  but  these  violent  young  lovers  carry 
everything  their  own  way.  I  shall  offer  to  pay 
him  to-morrow;  he  will  rant  and  storm  about  his 
love  for  you,  and  there  will  be  an  end  of  the 
matter." 

He  then  recollected  her  embarrassment  a  fe-w 
days  before  on  his  reading  Mr.  Collins's  letter; 
and  after  laughing  at  her  some  time,  allowed  hei 
at  last  to  go,  saying,  as  she  quitted  the  room,  ^'  If 
any  young  men  come  for  Mary  or  Kitty,  send  them 
in,  for  I  am  quite  at  leisure." 

Elizabeth's  mind  was  now  relieved  from  a  very 
heavy  weight;  and  after  half  an  hour's  quiet  re- 
flection in  her  own  room,  she  was  able  to  join  the 
others  with  tolerable  composure.  Everything  was 
too  recent  for  gayety,  but  the  evening  passed  tran- 
quilly away;  there  was  no  longer  anything  mate- 
rial to  be  dreaded,  and  the  comfort  of  ease  and 
familiarity  would  come  in  time. 

When  her  mother  went  up  to  her  dressing-room 
at  night,  she  followed  her,  and  made  the  important 
communication.  Its  effect  was  most  extraordinary ; 
for  on  first  hearing  it,  Mrs.  Bennet  sat  quite  still, 
and  unable  to  utter  a  syllable.    Nor  was  it  under 


PRIDE  A^TD  PREJUDICE. 


273 


many,  many  minutes  that  she  could  comprehend 
what  she  heard,  though  not  in  general  backward 
to  credit  what  was  for  the  advantage  of  her  family, 
or  that  came  in  the  shape  of  a  lover  to  any  of  them. 
She  began  at  length  to  recover,  to  fidget  about  in 
her  chair,  get  up,  sit  down  again,  wonder,  and 
bless  herself. 

*^Good  gracious!  Lord  bless  me!  Only  think! 
Dear  me!  Mr.  Darcy!  Who  would  have  thought 
it?  And  is  it  really  true?  Oh,  my  sweetest 
Lizzy!  how  rich  and  how  great  you  will  be! 
What  pin-money,  what  jewels,  what  carriages  you 
will  have!  Jane's  is  nothing  to  it,  — nothing  at 
all.  I  am  so  pleased,  so  happy.  Such  a  charm- 
ing man !  so  handsome,  so  tall !  Oh,  my  dear 
Lizzy!  pray  apologize  for  my  having  disliked  him 
so  much  before.  I  hope  he  will  overlook  it.  Dear, 
dear  Lizzy !  A  house  in  town !  Everything  that 
is  charming!  Three  daughters  married!  Ten 
thousand  a  year !  Oh,  Lord!  what  will  become  of 
me?    I  shall  go  distracted.'' 

This  was  enough  to  prove  that  her  approbation 
need  not  be  doubted;  and  Elizabeth,  rejoicing  that 
such  an  effusion  was  heard  only  by  herself,  soon 
went  away.  But  before  she  had  been  three  min- 
utes in  her  own  room,  her  mother  followed  her. 

'^My  dearest  child,"  she  cried,  ^'I  can  think  of 
nothing  else.  Ten  thousand  a  year,  and  very 
likely  more.    'T  is  as  good  as  a  lord!    And  a 

VOL.  II.  — 18 


274  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


special  license  — you  must  and  shall  be  married  by 
a  special  license.  But,  my  dearest  love,  tell  me 
what  dish  Mr.  Darcy  is  particularly  fond  of,  that  I 
may  have  it  to-morrow.'' 

This  was  a  sad  omen  of  what  her  mother's  be- 
havior to  the  gentleman  himself  might  be;  and 
Elizabeth  found  that  though  in  the  certain  pos- 
session of  his  warmest  affection,  and  secure  of  her 
relations'  consent,  there  was  still  something  to  be 
wished  for.  But  the  morrow  passed  off  much 
better  than  she  expected;  for  Mrs.  Bennet  luckily 
stood  in  such  awe  of  her  intended  son-in-law  that 
she  ventured  not  to  speak  to  him,  unless  it  was  in 
her  power  to  offer  him  any  attention,  or  mark  her 
deference  for  his  opinion. 

Elizabeth  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  her 
father  taking  pains  to  get  acquainted  with  him; 
and  Mr.  Bennet  soon  assured  her  that  he  was  ris- 
ing every  hour  in  his  esteem. 

^^I  admire  rJl  my  three  sons-in-law  highly," 
said  he.  '^Wickham,  perhaps,  is  my  favorite; 
but  I  think  I  shall  like  your  husband  quite  »8 
well  as  Jane's." 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


Elizabeth's  spirits  soon  rising  to  playfulness 
again,  she  wanted  Mr.  Darcy  to  account  for  his 
having  ever  fallen  in  love  with  her.  "  How  could 
you  hegin?  said  she.  I  can  comprehend  your 
going  on  charmingly,  when  you  had  once  made  a 
beginning;  but  what  could  set  you  off  in  the  first 
place?'' 

**I  cannot  fix  on  the  hour,  or  the  spot,  or  the 
look,  or  the  words  which  laid  the  foundation.  It 
is  too  long  ago.  I  was  in  the  middle  before  I 
knew  that  I  had  begun." 

*^My  beauty  you  had  early  withstood;  and  as 
for  my  manners,  —  my  behavior  to  you  was  at  least 
always  bordering  on  the  uncivil,  and  I  never  spoke 
to  you  without  rather  wishing  to  give  you  pain 
than  not.  Now  be  sincere;  did  you  admire  me 
for  my  impertinence?  " 

For  the  liveliness  of  your  mind  I  did." 
You  may  as  well  call  it  impertinence  at  once. 
It  was  very  little  less.    The  fact  is  that  you  were 
sick  of  civility,  of  deference,  of  officious  attention. 
You  were  disgusted  with  the  women  who  were 


276 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


always  speaking  and  looking  and  thinking  for 
your  approbation  alone.  I  roused  and  interested 
you,  because  I  was  so  unlike  them.  Had  you  not 
been  really  amiable,  you  would  have  hated  me  for 
it;  but  in  spite  of  the  pains  you  took  to  disguise 
yourself,  your  feelings  were  always  noble  and  just, 
and  in  your  heart  you  thoroughly  despised  the 
persons  who  so  assiduously  courted  yon.  There  — 
I  have  saved  you  the  trouble  of  accounting  for  it; 
and  really,  all  things  considered,  I  begin  to  think 
it  perfectly  reasonable.  To  be  sure,  you  know  no 
actual  good  of  me,  —  but  nobody  thinks  of  that 
when  they  fall  in  love.'* 

Was  there  no  good  in  your  affectionate  beha- 
vior to  Jane,  while  she  was  ill  at  Netherfield?  " 

Dearest  Jane!  who  could  have  done  less  for 
her?  But  make  a  virtue  of  it,  by  all  means.  My 
good  qualities  are  under  your  protection,  and  you 
are  to  exaggerate  them  as  much  as  possible;  and, 
in  return,  it  belongs  to  me  to  find  occasions  for 
teasing  and  quarrelling  with  you  as  often  as  may 
be;  and  I  shall  begin  directly,  by  asking  you  what 
made  you  so  unwilling  to  come  to  the  point  at 
last?  What  made  you  so  shy  of  me,  when  you 
first  called,  and  afterwards  dined  here?  Why,  es- 
pecially, when  you  called  did  you  look  as  if  you 
did  not  care  about  me?  '* 

'^Because  you  were  grave  and  silent,  and  gave 
me  no  encouragement. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  277 


*^But  I  was  embarrassed.'' 
And  so  was  I.'' 

"You  might  have  talked  to  me  more  when  you 
came  to  dinner." 

"  A  man  who  had  felt  less  might.'' 

"  How  unlucky  that  you  should  have  a  reason- 
able answer  to  give,  and  that  I  should  be  so  rea- 
sonable as  to  admit  it!  But  I  wonder  how  long 
you  would  have  gone  on,  if  you  had  been  left  to 
yourself.  I  wonder  when  you  would  have  spoken 
if  I  had  not  asked  you !  My  resolution  of  thank- 
ing you  for  your  kindness  to  Lydia  had  certainly 
great  effect.  Too  much  I  am  afraid;  for  what  be- 
comes of  the  moral,  if  our  comfort  springs  from  a 
breach  of  promise,  for  I  ought  not  to  have  men- 
tioned the  subject?    This  will  never  do." 

"You  need  not  distress  yourself.  The  moral 
will  be  perfectly  fair.  Lady  Catherine's  unjustifi- 
able endeavors  to  separate  us  were  the  means  of 
removing  all  my  doubts.  I  am  not  indebted  for 
my  present  happiness  to  your  eager  desire  of  ex- 
pressing your  gratitude.  I  was  not  in  a  humor  to 
wait  for  an  opening  of  yours.  My  aunt's  intelli- 
gence  had  given  me  hope,  and  I  was  determined  a* 
once  to  know  everything." 

"  Lady  Catherine  has  been  of  infinite  use,  which 
ought  to  make  her  happy,  for  she  loves  to  be  of 
use.  But  tell  me,  what  did  you  come  down  to 
Netherfield  for?    Was  it  merely  to  ride  to  Long- 


278  PKIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


bourn  and  be  embarrassed,  or  had  you  intended 
any  more  serious  consequences?'' 

^^My  real  purpose  was  to  see  you,  and  to  judge, 
if  I  could,  whether  I  might  ever  hope  to  make  you 
love  me.  My  avowed  one,  or  what  I  avowed  to 
myself,  was  to  see  whether  your  sister  was  still 
partial  to  Bingley,  and  if  she  were,  to  make  the 
confession  to  him  which  I  have  since  made." 

Shall  you  ever  have  courage  to  announce  to 
Lady  Catherine  what  is  to  befall  her?  " 

"1  am  more  likely  to  want  time  than  courage, 
Elizabeth.  But  it  ought  to  be  done ;  and  if  you 
will  give  me  a  sheet  of  paper  it  shall  be  done 
directly.'' 

^'And  if  I  had  not  a  letter  to  write  myself,  I 
might  sit  by  you,  and  admire  the  evenness  of  your 
writing,  as  another  young  lady  once  did.  But 
I  have  an  aunt,  too,  who  must  not  be  longer 
neglected." 

From  an  unwillingness  to  confess  how  much  her 
intimacy  with  Mr.  Darcy  had  been  overrated, 
Elizabeth  had  never  yet  answered  Mrs.  Gardiner's 
long  letter;  but  now,  having  that  to  communicate 
which  she  knew  would  be  most  welcome,  she  was 
almost  ashamed  to  find  that  her  uncle  and  aunt 
had  already  lost  three  days  of  happiness,  and  imx 
mediately  wrote  as  follows :  — 

I  would  have  thanked  you  before,  my  dear  aunt,  as  I 
ought  to  have  done,  for  your  long,  kind,  satisfactory  de- 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


279 


tail  of  particulars ;  but  to  say  the  truth,  I  was  too  cross 
to  write.  You  supposed  more  than  really  existed.  But 
now  suppose  as  much  as  you  choose ;  give  a  loose  to  your 
fancy,  indulge  your  imagination  in  every  possible  flight 
which  the  subject  will  afford,  and  unless  you  believe  me 
actually  married,  you  cannot  greatly  err.  You  must 
write  again  very  soon,  and  praise  him  a  great  deal  more 
than  you  did  in  your  last.  I  thank  you  again  and  again 
for  not  going  to  the  Lakes.  How  could  I  be  so  silly  as 
to  wish  it  ?  Your  idea  of  the  ponies  is  delightful.  We 
will  go  round  the  park  every  day.  I  am  the  happiest 
creature  in  the  world.  Perhaps  other  people  have  said  so 
before,  but  no  one  with  such  justice.  I  am  happier  even 
than  Jane ;  she  only  smiles,  I  laugh.  Mr.  Darcy  sends 
you  all  the  love  in  the  world  that  can  be  spared  from 
me.  You  are  all  to  come  to  Pemberley  at  Christmas. 
Yours,  etc. 

Mr.  Darcy's  letter  to  Lady  Catherine  was  in  a 
different  style ;  and  still  different  from  either  was 
what  Mr.  Bennet  sent  to  Mr.  Collins,  in  return 
for  his  last. 

Dear  Sir,  —  I  must  trouble  you  once  more  for  con- 
gratulations. Elizabeth  will  soon  be  the  wife  of  Mr. 
Darcy.  Console  Lady  Catherine  as  well  as  you  can. 
But  if  I  were  you,  I  would  stand  by  the  nephew.  He 
has  more  to  give. 

Yours  sincerely,  etc. 

Miss  Bingley's  congratulations  to  her  brother 
on  his  approaching  marriage  were  all  that  was 
affectionate  and  insincere.  She  wrote  even  to 
Jane  on  the  occasion,  to  express  her  delight,  and 


280 


PEIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


repeat  all  her  former  professions  of  regard.  Jane 
was  not  deceived,  but  she  was  affected;  and 
though  feeling  no  reliance  on  her,  could  not  help 
writing  her  a  much  kinder  answer  than  she  knew 
was  deserved. 

The  joy  which  Miss  Darcy  expressed  on  receiv- 
ing similar  information  was  as  sincere  as  her 
brother's  in  sending  it.  Four  sides  of  paper  were 
insufficient  to  contain  all  her  delight,  and  all  her 
earnest  desire  of  being  loved  by  her  sister. 

Before  any  answer  could  arrive  from  Mr.  Collins, 
or  any  congratulations  to  Elizabeth  from  his  wife, 
the  Longbourn  family  heard  that  the  Collinses 
were  come  themselves  to  Lucas  Lodge.  The  rea- 
son of  this  sudden  removal  was  soon  evident. 
Lady  Catherine  had  been  rendered  so  exceedingly 
angry  by  the  contents  of  her  nephew's  letter,  that 
Charlotte,  really  rejoicing  in  the  match,  was  anx- 
ious to  get  away  till  the  storm  was  blown  over. 
At  such  a  moment  the  arrival  of  her  friend  was  a 
sincere  pleasure  to  Elizabeth,  though  in  the  course 
of  their  meetings  she  must  sometimes  think  the 
pleasure  dearly  bought,  when  she  saw  Mr.  Darcy 
exposed  to  all  the  parading  and  obsequious  civility 
of  her  husband.  He  bore  it,  however,  with  ad- 
mirable calmness.  He  could  even  listen  to  Sir 
William  Lucas,  when  he  complimented  him  on 
carrying  away  the  brightest  jewel  of  the  coun- 
try, and  expressed  his  hopes  of  their  all  meeting 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  281 


frequently  at  St.  James's,  with  very  decent  com- 
posure. If  lie  did  shrug  his  shoulders,  it  was  not 
till  Sir  William  was  out  of  sight» 

Mrs.  Philips's  vulgarity  was  another,  and  per- 
haps a  greater  tax  on  his  forbearance ;  and  though 
Mrs.  Philips,  as  well  as  her  sister,  stood  in  too 
much  awe  of  him  to  speak  with  the  familiarity 
which  Bingley's  good-humor  encouraged,  yet 
whenever  she  did  speak,  she  must  he  vulgar.  Jlor 
was  her  respect  for  him,  though  it  made  her  more 
quiet,  at  all  likely  to  make  her  more  elegant. 
Elizabeth  did  all  she  could  to  shield  him  from  the 
frequent  notice  of  either,  and  was  ever  anxious  to 
keep  him  to  herself,  and  to  those  of  her  family 
with  whom  he  might  converse  without  mortifica- 
tion; and  though  the  uncomfortable  feelings  aris- 
ing from  all  this  took  from  the  season  of  courtship 
much  of  its  pleasure,  it  added  to  the  hope  of  the 
future;  and  she  looked  forward  with  delight  to  the 
time  when  they  should  be  removed  from  society  so 
little  pleasing  to  either,  to  all  the  comfort  and 
elegance  of  their  family  party  at  Pemberley. 


CHAPTER  XXVin. 


Happy  for  all  her  maternal  feelings  was  the  day 
on  which  Mrs.  Bennet  got  rid  of  her  two  most 
deserving  daughters.  With  what  delighted  pride 
she  afterwards  visited  Mrs.  Bingley,  and  talked  of 
Mrs.  Darcy,  may  be  guessed.  I  wish  I  could  say, 
for  the  sake  of  her  family,  that  the  accomplishment 
of  her  earnest  desire  in  the  establishment  of  so 
many  of  her  children  produced  so  happy  an  effect 
as  to  make  her  a  sensible,  amiable,  well-informed 
woman  for  the  rest  of  her  life ;  though,  perhaps,  it 
was  lucky  for  her  husband,  who  might  not  have 
relished  domestic  felicity  in  so  unusual  a  form, 
that  she  still  was  occasionally  nervous  and  inva- 
riably silly. 

Mr.  Bennet  missed  his  second  daughter  exceed- 
ingly; his  affection  for  her  drew  him  oftener  from 
home  than  anything  else  could  do.  He  delighted 
in  going  to  Pemberley,  especially  when  he  was  least 
expected. 

Mr.  Bingley  and  Jane  remained  at  Netherfield 
only  a  twelvemonth.  So  near  a  vicinity  to  her 
mother  and  Meryton  relations  was  not  desirable 
even  to  his  easy  temper  or  her  affectionate  heart. 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE.  283 


The  darling  wish  of  his  sisters  was  then  gratified: 
he  bought  an  estate  in  a  neighboring  county  to 
Derbyshire;  and  Jane  and  Elizabeth,  in  addition 
to  every  other  source  of  happiness,  were  within 
thirty  miles  of  each  other. 

Kitty,  to  her  very  material  advantage,  spent  the 
chief  of  her  time  with  her  two  elder  sisters.  In 
society  so  superior  to  what  she  had  generally 
known,  her  improvement  was  great.  She  was  not 
of  so  ungovernable  a  temper  as  Lydia;  and  removed 
from  the  influence  of  Lydia's  example,  she  became, 
by  proper  attention  and  management,  less  irritable, 
less  ignorant,  and  less  insipid.  From  the  further 
disadvantage  of  Lydia's  society  she  was  of  course 
carefully  kept;  and  though  Mrs.  Wickham  fre- 
quently invited  her  to  come  and  stay  with  her, 
with  the  promise  of  balls  and  young  men,  her 
father  would  never  consent  to  her  going. 

Mary  was  the  only  daughter  who  remained  at 
home;  and  she  was  necessarily  drawn  from  the 
pursuit  of  accomplishments  by  Mrs.  Bennet's  being 
quite  unable  to  sit  alone.  Mary  was  obliged  to 
mix  more  with  the  world,  but  she  could  still  mor- 
alize over  every  morning  visit ;  and  as  she  was  no 
longer  mortified  by  comparisons  between  her  sis- 
cers'  beauty  and  her  own,  it  was  suspected  by  her 
father  that  she  submitted  to  the  change  without 
much  reluctance. 

As  for  Wickham  and  Lydia,  their  characters 


284  PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


suffered  no  revolution  from  the  marriage  cf  her 
sisters.  He  bore  with  philosophy  the  conviction 
that  Elizabeth  must  now  become  acquainted  with 
whatever  of  his  ingratitude  and  falsehood  had  be- 
fore been  unknown  to  her;  and  in  spite  of  every- 
thing, was  not  wholly  without  hope  that  Darcy 
might  yet  be  prevailed  on  to  make  his  fortune. 
The  congratulatory  letter  which  Elizabeth  received 
from  Lydia  on  her  marriage  explained  to  her  that, 
by  his  wife  at  least,  if  not  by  himself,  such  a  hope 
was  cherished.    The  letter  was  to  this  effect :  — 

My  dear  Lizzy,  —  I  wish  you  joy.  If  you  love  Mr. 
Darcy  half  so  well  as  I  do  my  dear  Wickham,  you  must 
be  very  happy.  It  is  a  great  comfort  to  have  you  so 
rich  ;  and  when  you  have  nothing  else  to  do,  I  hope  you 
will  think  of  us.  I  am  sure  Wickham  would  like  a  place 
at  court  very  much  ;  and  I  do  not  think  we  shall  have 
quite  money  enough  to  live  upon  without  some  help. 
Any  place  would  do  of  about  three  or  four  hundred  a 
year ;  but,  however,  do  not  speak  to  Mr.  Darcy  about  it, 
if  you  had  rather  not. 

Yours,  etc. 

As  it  happened  that  Elizabeth  had  much  rather 
not,  she  endeavored  in  her  answer  to  put  an  end  to 
every  entreaty  and  expectation  of  the  kind.  Such 
relief^  however,  as  it  was  in  her  power  to  afford  by 
the  practice  of  what  might  be  called  economy  in 
her  own  private  expenses,  she  frequently  sent 
them.  It  had  always  been  evident  to  her  that 
Buch  an  income  as  theirs,  under  the  direction  of 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


285 


two  persons  so  extravagant  in  tlieir  wants  and 
heedless  of  the  future,  must  be  very  insufficient  to 
their  support;  and  whenever  they  changed  their 
quarters,  either  Jane  or  herself  was  sure  of  being 
applied  to  for  some  little  assistance  towards  dis- 
charging their  bills.  Their  manner  of  living, 
even  when  the  restoration  of  peace  dismissed  them 
to  a  home,  was  unsettled  in  the  extreme.  They 
were  always  moving  from  place  to  place  in  quest  of 
a  cheap  situation,  and  always  spending  more  than 
they  ought.  His  affection  for  her  soon  sunk  into  in- 
difference: hers  lasted  a  little  longer;  and  in  spite 
of  her  youth  and  her  manners,  she  retained  all  the 
claims  to  reputation  which  her  marriage  had  given 
her. 

Though  Darcy  could  never  receive  him  at  Pem- 
berley,  yet,  for  Elizabeth's  sake,  he  assisted  him 
further  in  his  profession.  Lydia  was  occasionally 
a  visitor  there,  when  her  husband  was  gone  to 
enjoy  himself  in  London  or  Bath;  and  with  the 
Bingleys  they  both  of  them  frequently  stayed  so 
long  that  even  Bingley's  good-humor  was  over- 
come, and  he  proceeded  so  far  as  to  talk  of  giving 
them  a  hint  to  be  gone. 

Miss  Bingley  was  very  deeply  mortified  by 
Darcy's  marriage;  but  as  she  thought  it  advisable 
to  retain  the  right  of  visiting  at  Pemberley,  she 
dropped  all  her  resentment ;  was  fonder  than  ever  of 
Georgiana,  almost  as  attentive  to  Darcy  as  here- 


286 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


tofore,  and  paid  off  every  arrear  of  civility  to 
Elizabeth. 

Pemberley  was  now  Georgiana's  home;  and  the 
attachment  of  the  sisters  was  exactly  what  Darcy 
had  hoped  to  see.  They  were  able  to  love  each 
other,  even  as  well  as  they  intended.  Georgiana 
had  the  highest  opinion  in  the  world  of  Elizabeth; 
though  at  first  she  often  listened  with  an  astonish- 
ment bordering  on  alarm  at  her  lively,  sportive 
manner  of  talking  to  her  brother.  He,  who  had 
always  inspired  in  herself  a  respect  which  almost 
overcame  her  affection,  she  now  saw  the  object  of 
open  pleasantry.  Her  mind  received  knowledge 
which  had  never  before  fallen  in  her  way.  By 
Elizabeth's  instructions  she  began  to  comprehend 
that  a  woman  may  take  liberties  with  her  husband 
which  a  brother  will  not  always  allow  in  a  sister 
more  than  ten  years  younger  than  himself. 

Lady  Catherine  was  extremely  indignant  on  the 
marriage  of  her  nephew;  and  as  she  gave  way  to 
all  the  genuine  frankness  of  her  character,  in  her 
reply  to  the  letter  which  announced  its  arrange- 
ment, she  sent  him  language  so  very  abusive, 
especially  of  Elizabeth,  that  for  some  time  all  in- 
tercourse was  at  an  end.  But  at  length,  by  Eliza- 
beth's persuasion,  he  was  prevailed  on  to  overlook 
the  offence  and  seek  a  reconciliation ;  and  after  a 
little  further  resistance  on  the  part  of  his  aunt, 
her  resentment  gave  way,  either  to  her  affection 


PRIDE  AND  PREJUDICE. 


287 


for  him,  or  her  curiosity  to  see  how  his  wife 
conducted  herself;  and  she  condescended  to  wait 
on  them  at  Pemberley,  in  spite  of  that  pollution 
which  its  woods  had  received,  not  merely  from  the 
presence  of  such  a  mistress,  but  the  visits  of  her 
uncle  and  aunt  from  the  city. 

With  the  Gardiners  they  were  always  on  the 
most  intimate  terms.  Darcy,  as  well  as  Elizabeth, 
really  loved  them;  and  they  were  both  ever  sensi- 
ble of  the  warmest  gratitude  towards  the  persons 
who,  by  bringing  her  into  Derbyshire,  had  beei> 
the  means  of  uniting  them. 


THE  END. 


